


Overlapping Melodies

by Marjorie_Franklin



Series: Broken Hearts and Maladies [3]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children, On The Way To A Smile: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Angst, Baby Strife, Canon Compliant, Drabble Collection, Drama, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Fluff, Jenova Cells, Jenova Project, Love, Post Advent Children, Post Dirge of Cerberus, Post-Relationship, Pregnancy, Randomness, Relationship(s), Romance, Shenanigans, Short Stories, Unconventional Families, Unconventional Relationship, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-04 21:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 51,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13373196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marjorie_Franklin/pseuds/Marjorie_Franklin
Summary: Years after the Deepground conflict, Cloud and Tifa are surprisingly happy and as close to normalcy as they've ever been. But raising two preadolescents while also managing two businesses is hard. And just when Tifa thought it couldn't get any harder, she realizes she's probably pregnant. What are they supposed to do with two preteens, two businesses, and a baby?





	1. Tifa

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So this is another addition to my FFVII series but reading my previous works isn't essential, especially since this one will be a little different than the others. It will basically be a story about Cloud and Tifa confronting the challenges of everyday life but with some very FFVII type…twists along the way. After all, how normal can their lives really be? I'm going to stick to canon events as much as possible, so prepare for angst, Jenova cells, fluff, and Materia!
> 
> The point of view and chapter length will change and vary from one chapter to the next but since this story focuses on Cloud and Tifa, most of the chapters will be from their point of view. Enjoy!

_It's dark and I'm angry. Initially, I'd been sad, devastated but it had transformed into rage so fast it almost gave me whiplash._

**Sephiroth… Soldier… Shinra… Mako reactor…**

_Green. Everything is green and smells like smoke, sulfur, and death… The world around me looks sick…but perhaps that's because I_ **feel** _sick._

_The sword, still lathered in crimson, the blood of the innocent…_

**Father's blood…**

_It is long, too long and I don't know how to wield it properly. I'm off balance but I don't care. It can still do its job, it can still do what I want it to do, what I_ **need** _it to do._

**I hate it. I hate it all!**

_Running. Continuous running up so many hard, hollow steps. Metal vibrating through every pore as I run, surrounded by dull, red piping… Slanted yellow and black strips, lining the way, screaming at me:_ **Caution.**

_They know. This isn't a fight I should be picking. This is a fight I can't win._

_I don't listen._

_Pods full of monsters, gleaming turquoise lights shining through their circular windows, windows for scientists to look in, not for the monsters to look out…_

_Stairs. So many stairs... The shallow thud of my footsteps on metal, ringing in perfect synchronization with the empty, wrathful heartbeat in my ears…_

**Sephiroth…**

_Green eyes glowing, glowering but not with anger… Strangely, he looks more humored than anything, entertained by my pathetic display, my pathetic attempt at slaughtering_ **him. Him** _of all people!_ _His eyes laugh at me but the laughter never resonates, never manifests in the physical world._

_Mako eyes flash with amusement only for a moment before swift, pale blue steel swipes up and across…_

_The sword follows his instruction much better than it had followed mine._

_Pain. Bright and hot across my chest, a swift, clean laceration that sent me reeling back in a beautifully tragic arc…_

_Falling, falling, falling…_

_Metal roars and bellows as I tumble down, the sound deep, shaking, vibrating, rattling through my spine, through my skull, down through my ribs._

_And then it's still. Then it's quiet and there's nothing left but pain and the cool caress of the hard, burgundy flooring beneath me, floor I am staining crimson, stains that will go unnoticed on such a dark, foreboding floor…_

**Cloud…**

* * *

I wake up with a start, my faded scars itching.

I honestly can't remember the last time I had one of these nightmares. It's been a long time but I can't say that I've missed them. There are some things that I don't ever want to revisit but I can never leave them behind completely. They follow me as a reminder and I guess I should be grateful for that. I don't need to be blinded or forget what I've suffered through and what I've done. I've convinced myself that these memories and sins will pave the way for a brighter future. It's one of the things that have kept me going over the years.

Sighing and pushing the pain away, I glance over my shoulder to the weight on the other side of the bed. Cloud's still asleep, lying on his stomach, his arms folded under his beautifully blonde head. He looks so peaceful…but I can still remember when he even looked tormented in his sleep and a part of me will probably hold those memories forever too.

Sometimes it's still hard for me to accept that he is really here. Despite how long it's been since he moved into my room and gave me my ring, I still sometimes feel that he will disappear in a puff of smoke if I touch him, and because of that, sometimes I don't touch him.

I think I could live forever and still have this insecurity in my heart. Cloud will always be this magical, illusive entity to me.

Resolving to let him sleep, I check the clock.

It's 6:47. I've overslept. I usually wake up at 5:30. That's the time I've trained myself to wake up for the past several years. It's the magic number that gives me the time I need to get everything (and everyone) up and running. I've learned that you have to allow time for delays and setbacks but that's the way I like it. I like our structured chaos. I don't think I'd know what I'd do if things actually went off without a hitch.

However, at present, I can't do anything for the overwhelming nausea I feel. It's probably just the dream messing with my nerves but I try to remember what I ate last night anyway. Nothing out of the ordinary… I cooked like I usually do. We didn't go out and I don't think any of the shipments Cloud brought in were old or from some sketchy supplier.

Maybe I'm getting sick. Shit. I can't get sick.

As I sit up and hold my face in my hands, all I can do is think of all the reasons why I can't get sick. I'm raising two preadolescents and trying to run a bar. This house/business won't run properly without me. Will it run? Sure, but not without difficulty. All the wheels would fall off before it once again became a well-oiled machine.

Even though something is clearly wrong with me, I decide to go ahead and get up and suffer through my nausea. It'll pass. I'll take my shower, make breakfast, then I'll wake up the kids and help them get ready for school. I usually try to check inventory, do some laundry, and sometimes even go to the market if I have time but I can't do that today since I overslept.

Kids…. I'll always call them that but they aren't really kids anymore. Denzel is creeping in on 14 and Marlene is 11.

My heart aches a little at the thought of them being this old. In my mind, they will always be children who need to be watched over and protected even though they are now capable of doing a lot of things without us. That doesn't keep them from trying to get out of their chores whenever the opportunity presents itself though.

By the time I make it to the bathroom, I'm nauseous again. This time it's worse and I can't tell if it's my anxiety over the kids growing up, the remnants of my nightmare, or if I am indeed getting sick.

No. I refuse to get sick. It's not happening! Steeling my resolve yet again, I take a few more steps to the shower.

But I never get inside. Nausea overpowers me and forces me to my knees where I lose my stomach in the toilet.

I don't just get sick once or twice. No. No, I get sick three times. I probably would have puked again if there were anything left to purge. How do I know? Because I dry heave until my throat aches and burns.

"Damn it…" I groan into the toilet, my head low inside its porcelain, my back and forehead lathered with cold sweat and goosebumps.

As I sit there hugging the icy body of the toilet bowl, panting, coughing and shivering down to the very tips of my toes, I feel warm hands pulling my hair back. They pull my long black stands out of the toilet and over my shoulders until they are gliding safely down my back. Once they are out of the way, the hands move to my forehead to pull back the strands that have gotten plastered to my face with sweat.

When I finally trust myself enough to not throw up anymore, I fall onto my backside and lean against the nearest wall, my legs splayed out in front of me. Taking in a deep breath, I look over at my guest who is now standing by the sink. I can't see what he is doing from my pitiful position in the floor. I assume he is washing my puke and sweat off his hands.

I'm almost embarrassed. Almost. But when you've been through what we've been though, you can't really get embarrassed over this kind of thing. We've been through worse.  _Much_  worse. We've seen each other at our lowest.

I stare at his back, watching the muscles move and bulge under his taut, pale skin. He isn't doing anything spectacular but I honestly just like to look at him. I even like looking at his scars and trying to remember how he got all of them. The white, rectangular slivers by his shoulder and by the center of his spine are easy. Those are the ones he got from Sephiroth.

Suddenly, my old scars get itchy again and my hand gravitates to my sternum.

Cloud turns with a washrag in his hands. He kneels down in front of me and extends the offering to me.

"Put it over your mouth," he instructs matter-of-factly.

I do as I'm told and immediately feel some better. The coolness of the rag on the bottom half of my face soothes the lingering nausea.

"Thank you," I mumble through the cloth.

Cloud sits next to me and grins either at my mumbling or at my general patheticness. Probably both.

His smile fades and his face contorts with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I've probably just got some kind of bug…" I'm not sure why, but I don't mention my dream about the Nibelheim Incident and my confrontation with Sephiroth.

He nods. "We'll call Barret and he can take Marlene and Denzel for the weekend. They're overdue for a visit anyway."

I want to say no. I want to say that he is overreacting. I want to insist that this is a fluke and that I am fine but I honestly can't do that. I don't know how sick I am and I probably shouldn't risk it. My body is clearly trying to tell me something.

Cloud reaches out and touches my forehead. "You don't feel feverish."

I shrug, still holding the cool rag to my mouth. "You should keep your distance, just in case."

He sits with me a little longer before he gets up and heads for the door. "I'll be right back. I'm gonna wake up the kids."

Funny. He still calls them ' _the kids'_  too.

I'm glad that Cloud gets to wrestle with Denzel and his desire to stay in bed. Marlene is a little easier to stir but getting Denzel out of bed on time is challenging. However, Denzel is always more inclined to listen to Cloud. Cloud doesn't put his foot down that much but when he does, they know he means business. They respect him, which is good. We'll need that respect if we want to get through the pending teenage years.

My head hurts now. It's heavy like lead and I find myself staying on the cool tile of the floor with the washcloth Cloud gave me pressed firmly against my mouth. I'm kind of afraid to move.

" _Tifa…"_

I look over and see Marlene standing in the doorway, looking at me with concerned eyes.

I can still remember the very first time I held her. I remember Barret handing her to me. I remember how overwhelmed and weary he looked and I remember vowing to help them always. I've loved her as if she were my own ever since.

She's a little taller now but her eyes still shine with gentle innocence and she still wears her hair in a long braid that now glides down her back and a pink ribbon in her hair. Her style, which consists mainly of dresses and boots, is not unlike Aerith's and I would be lying if I said Marlene didn't remind me of Aerith from time to time.

"Don't come in," I heed. "I don't want you catching anything I might have."

"Cloud said not to bother you," she whispers and glances around the corner to make sure he isn't nearby to witness her disobedience. "But I wanted to see if you were okay. Do you need anything?"

"I'll be fine. Just get ready for school."

"Are you sure? I can stay home and take care of you if you need me to…" Marlene has always been attentive (especially after Cloud left us) and it definitely hasn't ebbed with age.

I pull the cloth from my mouth and smile. "No. It's okay."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Marlene bobs her head and reluctantly leaves after giving me another quick glance.

I must look horrible. The way she looked at me like I was a wounded animal says a lot. Maybe I'm worse off than I think.

Eventually I rise to my wobbly feet and head to the sink. Once there, I bend my head down and start rinsing my mouth out and brushing my teeth. As I do so, I hear the harmony that occurs whenever Denzel and Cloud's timbre and baritones mix.

Good. At least Cloud was able to wake him up. Now I won't have to worry about them being late.

Once I finish brushing my teeth, I go back to bed. Despite how much I want to fulfill my typical morning routine, I feel horrible and my body isn't giving me much choice.

After lying there a while, I grab my phone and call Barret.

He answers after three rings.  _"Yo. What's goin' on?"_

"I'm sick."

" _No shit. Ya sound awful."_

"Thank you." I ooze sarcasm.

" _Hell, I didn't mean nothin' by it! I'm just sayin' I can hear it over the phone."_

"Good to know. Anyway, I need a favor."

" _What ya need?"_

"I may need you to take the kids this weekend until I get better. You know, just in case."

" _No problem. We can meet up at the usual halfway point if they want."_

Barret stayed in Corel after everything settled down, after Sephiroth and even after Deepground. He said he was trying to settle his past but that became a lengthy venture, lengthy to the point that he just decided to stay there. Then, it was basically like having joint custody. Barret would visit on weekends or take Marlene and even Denzel to Gold Saucer or his home in Corel. And holidays/vacations were done together.

I'm still not entirely sure why Barret hasn't pushed to have Marlene more. I've just always assumed that he felt that we needed her and that she obtained a stability with us that he didn't want to disrupt.

"Okay. I'll talk to them about it and see what they want to do. I may be better later so we'll just have to wait and see." I throw an arm over my eyes, hoping it will lessen the pounding in my head.

" _Alright. Let me know if ya need anythin'."_

"Thanks, Barret…" I mumble as I end the call and curl up in a ball.

I hear the noises downstairs. I hear everyone talking. I hear dishes rattling around and I really want to get up and help but I just can't. I'm not really that nauseous anymore but I am… _exhausted_ , which isn't necessary new. I've been fighting my mounting fatigue for a while now (longer than I care to admit) and I'm obviously paying the price for it.

I'm just glad Cloud isn't really the gloating type because he's been telling me for weeks that I needed to take some time off. Me getting sick is proof that he was right so I wouldn't be surprised if I got a big  _fat I-told-you-so_ soon.

At some point I must have fallen asleep because when I open my eyes again, Cloud is sitting on the edge of the bed next to me.

"How long was I out?" I ask as I slowly sit upright.

"'Bout thirty minutes," he says calmly.

"Did you get them out of the house on time?"

"I think so." He rubs at the back of his neck. "Feeling any better?"

"A little. I'm mainly tired now."

He nods.

"When are you leaving?"

He raises a brow at me. "I'm not."

"You've got deliveries to make. Don't tell me that you don't. I know you do," I say sternly.

"Making sure you're okay is more important." Cloud shrugs a shoulder.

"I'll get you sick," I warn.

He scoffs and a half-smirk blooms across his face. "I doubt it."

Yes, the experiments on him and his altered genetic makeup did leave him with an incredible immune system. He rarely gets sick but he is still capable of getting sick. He's been sick before. I can count the times he's succumbed to normal illness on one hand but still!

Tired of this debate going nowhere and just tired in general, I roll my eyes and lie back down.

"Do you need anything?" he asks, placing a heavy hand on my shoulder.

"No. I'm good." My eyes close and I feel him gently brush some of my hair away from my face before his weight shifts off the bed and his footsteps retreat.

* * *

When I wake up the third time, I feel much better. Like,  _a lot_  better! Like _I-was never sick-at-all_ better. In fact, I'm starving.

I crawl out of bed and head down to the bar in search of food, my bare feet slapping against the hardwood and tile of our strange, little home.

Shifting from foot to foot, I try to find something that looks good. I need something gentle, something that won't be harsh on my stomach. Sure, I feel better but that doesn't mean that I should go crazy.

Soup. I could probably handle some soup. Yeah. That actually sounds pretty darn good. Maybe crackers?

_Hmm…_

As I start sorting through our supply and putting my dish together, I wonder where Cloud is. He's probably in the garage making phone calls or playing with Fenrir.

Not too long after my room became his room too, Cloud's office became Denzel's room. Denzel reached the age where he no longer wanted to share a room with Marlene, something that had hurt her feelings initially. We had to explain that it was nothing personal. Denzel was just growing up and wanted his own space and that one day she would want hers too.

So we moved all of Cloud's office supplies to the garage where he could work in peace and moved all of Denzel's things into what had been Cloud's office. Which is how we got to the living arrangement we have now.

" _Tifa?"_

"In here!" I call, amazed that he has already picked up on the fact that I'm out of bed.

Cloud enters the bar looking completely flabbergasted. "Are you… _cooking_?"

"Yeah. I'm hungry. Do you want anything?"

His expression doesn't change. If anything, the confused wrinkles in his forehead deepen.

"No…" he says lowly.

"I'm feeling  _a lot_  better but don't worry. I'm not gonna push it," I insist as I continue seasoning the pot of soup that has started to boil.

Cloud nods and eases onto one of the barstools.

He's in a white t-shirt and jeans. It's one of my favorite looks on him. His casual attire is very appealing to me simply because he's usually clad in lots of layers of black.

Sometimes I swear this man has gotten even more attractive with age. For the longest time I swore that he actually got better looking while suffering from Geostigma.

I'd be lying if I said that didn't make me a little…self-conscious. Of course, Cloud had been a constant test of my confidence since I found him wandering around the Sector 7 train station lost and confused. Little did I know then that things would only get worse before they got better. Much worse.

_Don't go back there, Tifa. You promised you wouldn't._

I wonder if I've aged as gracefully as he has. I sometimes wonder if all the S cells and Mako slowed down his aging too. How could I not think that when he still looks the way he does? However, I do see differences. His face isn't quite as round. It's slightly more sunken and chiseled. He's also picked up weight. He isn't as thin as he was after his bout of Geostigma, but he is still what I'd consider long and lean yet well muscled.

He's also a little…scruffier today. I'm assuming he didn't bother to shave since he currently sports a little pale stubble on his chin and jaw. It was barely noticeable, casting only a very faint shadow along his powerful jawline but it's still there nonetheless. He almost always shaves though. He always says he hates the feeling of facial hair.

His blonde hair, while still spiky, isn't quite as spiky as it was when we were younger. It has dulled with age, mellowed out with his demeanor but it is still arguably his most identifiable feature.

One thing that hasn't changed over the years, are his eyes. Those beautiful glowing eyes have not dulled a bit. They still cut through darkness like a beacon and glow with an intensity that makes my breath hitch in my throat. Even when he is looking at me with heavy-lidded bedroom eyes, those eyes manage to glow the most beautiful shade of blue I've ever witnessed. In my personal opinion, no ocean or skyline is prettier than the stunning, unique blue of Cloud Strife's eyes.

Those eyes follow me around the room now but with worry and intense scrutiny as I cook. Yet he says nothing.

"I can hear you thinking," I say, my eyes not leaving my soup.

I feel his smirk against my back.

"You always do."

We are nothing if not in tune with one another now. Our time in the Lifestream was no doubt responsible for that but years of living together and putting our lives back together with two young children had attributed a lot too. At this point, it came as easily as breathing but I'll never take it for granted because I still remember what it was like to be completely at a loss when it came to Cloud.

"I just don't want you overdoing it. That's all."

I can't see him but I hear him tapping at the countertop. He's anxious.

I finish making the soup and sit next to him. We sit in contented silence as I eat.

I'm 27 and I still love just being near him. I love it as much as I did when I was 18. The quiet used to bother me. I used to think it meant that he didn't want to talk to me but I've learned that sometimes, this is how he wants it, that we can enjoy the quiet together. It is one of his unique ways of showing that he enjoys being with me and there is a strange intimacy that accompanies these quiet moments together now that I understand them. Just being near me is enough for him and the mere thought of that is heartwarming.

He watches me eat and steals a few of my crackers.

"I think you should go back to bed," he says as soon as the last of the soup goes into my mouth. I don't even have time to blink. He is already taking the bowl away and putting it in the sink.

Spoon still in hand, I glare at his back. For a second, I seriously consider throwing it at him.

I feel fine. I don't want to go back to bed. I've been in bed all day and I think I'll go stir crazy if I just lie there.

"I'm fine. I promise I'll take it easy."

I can tell by the tightness in his mouth that he doesn't like my answer.

"I'll lay back down if I start feeling bad. Okay?" I add in an attempt to reach some kind of compromise.

That seems to pacify him even though I can tell he still isn't crazy about the thought of me being up. He doesn't trust me. He knows that I'll probably do too much if I am given the opportunity and I'll admit that he isn't wrong. If I'm honest, my overdoing it is probably why I got sick in the first place.

"Did you talk to Barret?" I decide to change the subject completely.

"Yeah. We talked it out with the kids. I'm gonna take them to meet him once they get back." He begins washing my now empty soup bowl.

I nod but before I can say anything else on the matter, the front door opens and I hear the familiar clatter of backpacks hitting the floor. Seconds later, Denzel is approaching the bar with Marlene on his heels.

He eyes me curiously and waves meekly once he deduces that I am lucid and not in the throws of fever.

He's getting tall too and his growth is much more obvious than Marlene's. He's rounded features are starting to give way to more a more angular appearance and he is almost twice the size he was when Cloud crossed the bar's threshold with him unconscious in his arms. I'll never forget the sight of that little boy curling up in agony as black ooze leaked down his face from the Geostigma wound on his head.

There were times I honestly thought he wouldn't live past the tender age of 9. He'd been so sick but now he is a tall and lanky 13-year-old. His physique honestly reminds me a lot of Cloud's when he was around his age. I can't help but swell with pride at the sight of him. I'm proud he's grown this old but it also hurts some. He probably won't need us much longer. When Cloud was around his age, he'd already left to join SOLDIER.

"You any better?" Denzel asks and he looks genuinely concerned. Worry rests in the creases of his eyes and I know that he is probably thinking of all the caretakers he had before Cloud found him that died of Geostigma.

"Much better. How was school?"

He rolls his deep blue eyes. "Fine, I guess. As good as school can be."

If it were up to Denzel and Marlene, we'd still be homeschooling them. But when Reeve and the WRO finally got schools up and running in Edge, Cloud and I agreed that it would be best for them. They disagreed but we eventually won that particular argument.

Marlene elaborates about her day a bit and Denzel complains about how much homework he has. Cloud simply tells him to take it with him to Corel so he can work on it over the weekend. Denzel makes a face, wrinkling up his handsome features before he goes to his room to pack.

Marlene stays with us a bit longer, asking me questions about my mystery illness. She's clearly still concerned and determined to diagnose me to the point that she seems reluctant to leave. She even offers to get some medicine from the new pharmacy in town but I (of course) insist that it isn't necessary and that the home remedies we have around the house will suffice.

"Do you ever think it's hard for them to take us seriously? You know, because we're so much younger?" I ask Cloud once we're alone again.

Going to the school and school-related functions was always an interesting experience. We are usually half the age of the other parents, which gets me a lot of looks and underhanded, snarky remarks. They either think I had Denzel at the tender age of 12 or that I'm the worst choice of adoptive parent ever. They might be right about the latter. Cloud and I were in a dark place when we brought him into our lives but there is no going back now. Just like with Marlene, we'd needed him and he'd needed us. Cloud even thought Aerith meant him for us and I still believe that he was right. Taking in Denzel helped us to cope with our role in what happened to Sector 7.

Cloud shrugged. "Maybe. But I think they've turned out okay."

"It's gonna get harder…" I whisper and take a few sips of the water he has shoved my way. "They're gonna want to start doing…teenage things…"

He grimaces.

"We'll have to have the talk… Well, another talk. I know you've already talked to him about some of the… _guy things_." It's my turn to grimace. Denzel isn't supposed to do guy things or even know about guy things. This parenting stuff was a lot easier when they were wide-eyed and innocent. Then again, they'd both been through a lot so they weren't as innocent as most children but I always thought it was appropriate since we were significantly damaged and broken ourselves.

"I'll handle Denzel just please, for the love of all that is Holy, don't make me talk to Marlene about… _girl things_ …"

I laugh and shake my head. "We're in over our heads."

"Probably but we've been through worse."

He's right. We've been through  _a lot_  worse. We've saved the Planet three times if you count Sephiroth's return and the Deepground conflict. Not to mention all the emotional turmoil and relationship issues we had to battle through.

If we could get through all that, surely we could get through Denzel and Marlene's teenage years.

The thought of them actually getting through those years makes me wonder what we'll do once they're grown. What will we do when they want to move out? We'll have an empty nest in our thirties!

I suppose we could adopt again. We'd talked about that a few times in the past. We'd even talked about fostering but I can't think about any of that now. I won't have to worry about any of that for a while. I need to focus on enjoying what we have now…and on getting rid of this weird stomach bug so I won't have to call Yuffie in to help run the bar tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Oh, Tifa! You have no idea what's coming your way! Ignorance truly is bliss…for now! He-he!
> 
> Anyway! I'm probably crazy for starting another story this soon but I was honestly pretty excited to start this one. I've had this idea for a while and I haven't seen that many post-relationship Cloud and Tifa stories out there so here we are! This work will be what I see as the next step in the FFVII universe. It will consist of short stories and drabbles but there will be a running plot. And like I said before, this is a somewhat-sequel to my previous FFVII works but it should still be newcomer friendly. However, it probably wouldn't hurt to read the others since there will be similar themes, topics, and all that jazz. But I digress!
> 
> Thanks again for reading and I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!


	2. Denzel

Marlene is uncharacteristically quiet. Usually on our walks home from school, I can't get her to shut up.

Normally, I'd enjoy the quiet. I'd use it as an opportunity to appreciate our surroundings and to have some peace after a long day of complaining teachers and loud students. But I can tell that something is bothering her. She's thinking about something.

"Denzel?"

"Hmm?" I kick a nearby can into the street, my hands buried deep in my pockets.

"Do you think Tifa's okay?"

I stop and turn to face her. "What do you mean?"

"She's been acting strange. Have you noticed how much she's been sleeping lately?"

I frown but start walking again. "Yeah…"

It is weird and very out of character of Tifa. She definitely hasn't been herself since she got sick a few days ago. She is still attentive and warm but something is…off. I can't quite put my finger on what but the atmosphere at home has definitely changed. It isn't necessarily…bad. It's kind of like Tifa – off.

In fact, I don't really want to go home. Not yet anyway. Things are kind of tense due to Tifa's unknown ailment. Something is still clearly wrong with her but she is still insisting that she is fine and Cloud (playing the pacifist) hasn't decided to confront it yet.

I hesitate and take a step back. "You go ahead. I think I'm gonna find Rick."

Marlene frowns, clearly unhappy with this.

Rick is my old friend from before Cloud found me but after the Sector Seven collapse that killed my parents. After my first caregiver (an old woman named Ruvie) died of Geostigma, a man named Gaskin took me in. In the wake of Meteorfall, Gaskin was helping evacuate everyone to the slums. That was where I met a bunch of other orphaned kids – including Rick – and we began making a living by finding scrap metal in the wreckage and selling it to people who were building what would eventually become Edge. We called ourselves Triple S (Sector Seven Scavengers).

Our little organization didn't last long though. Gaskin succumbed to Geostigma and when he did, a lot of the kids went off to go to homeless shelters in Edge. Eventually, it was just Rick and I. That is, until I made an offensive remark about slum-dwellers and rat eating, not realizing that Rick himself had spent most of his life as a slum-dweller.

I'd tried to backtrack but it was too late. He left and I didn't go after him. Shortly after that, Cloud found me malnourished and unconscious outside of the church in the slums.

A while back, I learned that Rick was living here in Edge. I'd been too nervous and reluctant to confront him then. I didn't feel like I could face him. I knew I'd been in the wrong and that he probably didn't want to talk to me even if I did get the balls to face him.

But one day, we stumbled upon each other at school. It was kind of tense at first. Initially, all we could get out was a few awkward head bobs, reluctant waves, and terse  _hellos._ Then we began to warm up to each other. Things went from tense, to normal, to surprisingly pleasant. Soon, we were friends again, much to Marlene's chagrin.

Marlene thinks Rick and his friends are a bad influence. I think she's overreacting. Rick and the others turned out great considering how they've been in homeless shelters and then from one place to another over the past few years. Reeve and the WRO did what they could but there were a lot of orphaned kids and not too many people who were able or willing to take them in. And even if they did take them in, they couldn't always keep them for long. Not everyone has been as lucky as us…

"You can come too if you want," I add casually, already knowing she won't take me up on my offer.

She shakes her head, her long braid swaying as she does so. "No. I think I'll go home and see if Tifa needs me."

Marlene and I have different ways of coping with things. Marlene likes to be present; to make sure everything is okay. She likes to be close to the situation, like maybe she can fix it. I, however, like to avoid it until it blows over and hopefully, fixes itself (something I may or may not have learned from Cloud).

Since this situation involves sickness and unknown ailments, I have definitely gone into avoid mode. After watching countless people die of Geostigma, I have gained an aversion to any kind of illness. I hate being sick and I hate being around people who are sick. I can stomach it for the people I care about but it's always difficult for me.

Marlene and I split up, and I head out to the market where Rick and the others usually are after school. A lot of kids like to hang out in front of the shops and restaurants, probably because it reminds them of the Wall Market back in Midgar. Most of them (including myself for a little while) have been street kids at some point. I think it gives them some sense of stability, a constant.

" _Denzel!"_

Rick and some other kids are sitting on some crates in an alley by the Item Shop.

He hasn't changed much over the years. He is taller and broader but his hair is still short and wavy. He still wears a black band around his head separating his pale blonde (almost white) hair from his greenish-grey eyes.

"Wasn't expecting to see you around today!" He beams. "Where's Sis and Moogle Girl?"

I snicker but I'm pretty sure I'm blushing anyway. It's always embarrassing to be called out as the guy who is usually seen with girls, which happens somewhat often since I usually walk home with Marlene and sometimes  _Moogle Girl_ (the same Moogle Girl that was with me when I was taken to the Forgotten City by Kadaj and his gang).

It's funny how people still call her Moogle Girl. Even Cloud and Tifa still call her the Moogle Girl after all this time. I'm pretty sure almost everyone knows her real name (Millicent Geffen, which ironically gave her the same initials as Moogle Girl), but they still tack this nickname on her because of the doll she carries.

"Marlene is at home and I don't know where Millie is." I shrug, trying to sound indifferent, like I don't care…even though I do.

"Why aren't you home?" he asks, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"I don't know. Things are kind of…weird." I scratch at the back of my neck.

"Weird how? The folks fighting?"

"No. Not fighting. Tifa is just not herself and that's kind of causing a ripple effect."

"Think she might be pregnant?" Rick says this like it's not a big deal, like it's the most normal thing ever.

"What?" I reel so hard I think I might crash into a nearby trashcan. "No!"

Honestly, I'm not even sure if they  _can_ have kids. Even if they could, I don't think they'd have any of their own. Surely they would mention something like that to Marlene and me...

"I don't know... People start acting weird when they're expecting a baby," Rick muses, casting his gaze towards the overcast sky. "How long has it been since they got married?"

I would use the term  _married_ loosely. Cloud and Tifa didn't have a wedding or a big ceremony. They went off to a courthouse one day and that was that. They got the papers and the legitimacy but little else.

Their old friends threw them a party of sorts when they found out but that was as far as the celebration went.

It was very private and very intimate, something just between them. But sometimes I think Marlene and I getting older did have a role to play in the  _marriage,_ especially the timing of it.

I think Cloud and Tifa wanted to give us some legitimacy. They always wanted us to have a complete family, a _real_ family. They wanted normalcy for us. They didn't want the disapproving, judgmental stares or the awkward questions about their relationship. They didn't want that kind of thing for us anymore. I don't think Cloud wanted us to feel like a broken family or even appear like one. They wanted us to be as close to real normalcy as possible and that meant getting hitched (in a manner of speaking). And of course, the fact that they loved each other certainly helped to move things forward.

I'd be lying if I said things hadn't gotten easier once they got married. It was a lot easier going to public functions and meeting new people. And it did offer stability and a strange sense of peace. We were no longer as worried about them not being able to make it work and splitting.

Tifa still rarely responded to Mrs. Strife though. It was still foreign to her. She still signs her name _Lockhart_  on things like checks, permission slips, and progress reports. She curses and is then forced to fill out a new one or find some correction fluid.

"Oh, geez. Um, I don't know. We helped him pick out that ring for her years ago but she didn't stop wearing it on a chain around her neck until like…a year and a half ago?" The whole process was unconventional. Tifa and Cloud were nothing if not complicated but they genuinely loved each other in their own strange little way. Still, that didn't make them any easier to explain to people.

"That's long enough to want a baby. Plus, you and Marlene aren't getting any younger. They might be feeling some empty nest syndrome already," Rick replies, his heels kicking lazily against the crate he sits on.

I hadn't considered that but still, it is really hard for me to wrap my mind around Cloud and Tifa having a baby. It's just not something I see happening. Then again, I didn't see them ever getting a marriage license either.

* * *

The bar is empty when I come home. Apparently, it was a slow night and Tifa decided to close early.

Marlene is wiping down the tables, stopping only to wave at me.

"Where's Tifa?" I ask as I toss my backpack onto the floor.

"She went to lay down after the last customer left."

I frown. "Is she sick again?"

Marlene shrugs a shoulder. "I don't know. Maybe."

_So much for feeling better…_

"Is there anything to eat?" Making a beeline for the fridge, I decide to change the subject. I try not to make it too obvious how uncomfortable I am with the idea of Tifa still being sick.

"The usual. Tifa didn't cook though."

That's not surprising. If she feels bad enough to be in bed already, then she definitely wouldn't have felt like cooking anything, which is out of character for her. She almost always has something for us or at the very least makes sure that we ate  _something._

I piece together a sandwich and take it to the nearest table.

"Don't make a mess. I just wiped down all the tables." Marlene shoots me a stern yet somehow playful glare from behind the bar.

"Yeah. Yeah," I grumble through a mouth full of chips.

Besides my chewing and the sounds of Marlene washing some of the dishes, it is painfully quiet. Tifa's absence is painfully obvious. It feels weird without her here with us asking about our day and telling us about some of the patrons that came to the bar and some of the stories they told her as she served them.

I am a few seconds from going to check on her despite the psychological issues I have with maladies. I resolve to finish my sandwich and at the very least look in on her, but before I finish my food, I hear Fenrir outside.

Seconds later, Cloud comes in through the door, his clothes dusty and a little bit of dried monster blood on his forearms. He waves, his mouth contorted in a half smile but he doesn't speak. His eyes go to Marlene and then to me but it is obvious that he is searching the space for Tifa, which tells me that he felt her absence as soon as he crossed the threshold or he already suspects that something is wrong.

"Is she in bed?" It's more of a statement than a question.

Marlene nods.

"Get started on your homework if you haven't already," he says as he brushes past us and heads for their room.

Still chewing my sandwich, I wait until his footsteps are relatively far away before I quietly get to my feet and follow.

" _Denzel_!" Marlene whispers harshly. Being the voice of reason (as she usually is), she tries to stop me. She already knows I'm headed up to investigate or  _snoop,_ as she would probably put it.

Marlene is chastising me but she is still following my lead. She is in my shadow. She probably followed me initially to try to stop me but now I think she is too curious to stop. She wants to know what they're saying too.

I get as close to their room as I can, which isn't that close but I know (from experience) if we get any closer, Cloud will know we're here. His senses are too sharp.

" _You okay?"_

" _Yeah. I'm fine. It was just a long day so I'm pretty drained. And I guess I'm not completely myself again yet."_

" _Maybe you should close the bar again tomorrow. Take the day off to get better. You clearly—"_

" _We can't afford to close the bar anymore."_

" _Wanna call Yuffie?"_

" _I'm not that sick."_

Their room falls silent but it is a strained kind of silence. I can practically hear Cloud slowly nodding in response but I know he is worried because I'm worried too. Tifa has been like this for a few days now. It comes and goes, which is odd for the usual virus. Something else is going on with her, possibly something more serious.

My mind goes to Ruvie and Gaskin even though I know it is practically impossible for Tifa to have Geostigma. Yes, Geostigma is gone but there are plenty of other things out there that could take her from us.

Human life is fragile. I've learned that lesson well. I can't count the number of people I watched die after the plate collapse and Meteorfall. Death is everywhere and it is much stronger than us. There are so many things that can go wrong with your body and even though Tifa is young, she is no exception.

But then I think about what Rick said. Could it be that simple? Could we just be overreacting? What if Tifa is just...pregnant?

_No. They'd tell us if they were trying to have a baby...wouldn't they?_

I'm so distracted by my musings that I don't hear Cloud's footsteps. Marlene starts tugging at the back of my shirt to warn me but it's too late.

Marlene squeaks and tries to vanish inside the wall next to us.

He looks at us a moment, his expression unreadable. Marlene and I have gone mute. We can't speak, so we just gaze up at him with pleading eyes. However, this doesn't work as well as it used to.

Cloud walks past us and I realize that he probably knew we were here the whole time. All he says is: "It's rude to eavesdrop."

I sit there, stunned and kind of sheepish. Marlene hasn't moved either.

He doesn't turn or stop walking but I think I hear Cloud snicker very softly as he silently motions for us to follow him.

Even though he didn't say so, Marlene and I know that this is his way of saying that we need to follow him, not ask questions, and start our homework, which is exactly what we do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Fun fact: Rick is actually a character from the FFVII universe. He's from Denzel's section of On the Way to a Smile (so you can easily look him up if you chose to do so). In Denzel's episode, it is said that Rick is actually in Edge before the events of Advent Children and Denzel knows this so I always assumed that they would reconcile at some point, which is why I decided to give him a small role here. So I didn't make him up! What I did make up, however, is the Moogle Girl's (the girl from Advent Children with pigtails and Geostigma) name. The series has always just called her Moogle Girl so I decided to give her a little more of an identity. Because…why not?
> 
> Thanks again for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	3. Tifa

There's something wrong with me. I haven't gotten sick anymore but the nausea persists.

At first, I was only mildly horrified that I was still sick. I just suffer through it, telling Cloud and the kids (and myself) that it's still whatever was pestering me the other day. No big deal. It could just take me a while before I'm completely better.

But it continues. I continue battling nausea and fatigue. All I want to do is sleep and when I'm not tired, I'm nauseated.

That's when the panic started to set in and the impossible occurred to me. It came at me as fast as a Midgar Zolom.

I could be pregnant.

The thought of that intensifies my panic and nausea tenfold to the point that I go into shock and then denial.

No. There's no way. I can't be pregnant. I'm probably the most infertile person ever.

But I'm late. And I'm sick. Usually in the morning… But sometimes all day… And tired...

_Shit._

My mood is in the tubes as a result of my…ailment. I'm not myself and I know it. Cloud knows it too. He just hasn't found the nerve to confront me about it yet, but he will. And the kids will notice too if they haven't already. I wear my feelings. I can't hide them, especially not from them.

But I'm also not about to tell them that I think I might be pregnant – at least not now. Not until I'm sure.

Once Cloud is gone and the kids go to school, I go into town to a local pharmacy and buy almost a dozen home pregnancy tests.

Shock descends upon me again as I spread them out on the counter in the bathroom and look down at them.

This is surreal. I've never thought I was pregnant before. I've even thought that I was infertile, maybe even barren after everything that's happened; not that Cloud and I ever tried to test that theory. We've always been careful. Sometimes more careful than others but still careful…

It takes me a moment to get a grip and yet another moment before I bring myself to actually open the little, pink box.

Things can change dramatically in the blink of an eye. My 27 years on this Planet have taught me that well. Life comes rushing at you when you least expect it to and turns everything on its head. You can go from having a home and family one day, to being an orphan in Midgar's slums the next. One day someone will be right next to you and in seconds they can be gone forever. And then you can go from worrying about what to make for dinner to worrying about the life you may or may not be carrying inside you.

As I pace the floor waiting for the results, I start to regret the decision to do this alone. Some support would be nice. It would be nice to have someone here with me to tell me that everything will be okay but there honestly isn't anyone I'd feel comfortable doing this with outside of Cloud and Cloud isn't an option right now. I don't want to even _mention_ this to him unless I'm 110% sure. I have no idea how he'll react and that's why I'm not comfortable with the idea of anyone else knowing. Yuffie, for example, would blab the first chance she got and I wouldn't want to ask Marlene to lie to Cloud for me.

I check the clock on my phone. It's been done for a while now but I can't bring myself to look. I'm afraid of what that piece of plastic will tell me…but it might lie.

_Yeah. There are false positives all the time._

Sucking in a deep breath, I stand and look down to see the tiny digital letters spelling: _**PREGNANT**_ **.**

My throat tightens and my stomach drops to the floor but this time it doesn't take me as long to react. Fairly certain the piece of white plastic has lied to me, I grab another box and prepare to do this again.

I wait another 10 minutes or so and check the results.

_**PREGNANT.** _

Later, after chugging a large bottle of water, I grab another box (a different brand this time), ripping open the top and treating this like some kind of sparing contest where two out of three isn't enough and we now have to go for three out of five.

_**PREGNANT.** _

_Shit._

I've gone through at least four of these now and I prepare to do yet another as if it will make the previous four less accurate. Because that makes sense…

_The majority will still be positive, Tifa…_

Realizing the fruitlessness of this venture, I drop the box and kick it across the floor.

I feel like crying and the day is still young and my hormones are probably raging so I probably will. I fall to the floor and bury my head between my raised knees, ready to pull my hair out.

What am I gonna do…? What are _we_ gonna do? I can't have a baby. Much less have a baby in a bar! Our bar is _very_ calm as far as bars go but I can't have a baby in this environment. I don't even know if there would be enough room! Even if we did make room, no one wants to hear a screaming baby while they try to drink and enjoy themselves. Half of my patrons are trying to get away from their families and even if they weren't, I'm not insane enough to even _consider_ raising a baby here. Children were one thing but a newborn is quite another. We'd have to move.

Sure, I've thought about moving before. We've even talked about it in passing. I've acknowledged that we probably couldn't live here forever but this is still our home. We have history here, not to mention the fact that Cloud and the kids are not fans of change.

_Cloud…_

What will _he_ do? Something like this could easily send him reeling, unearthing the years of progress we've made. All of my old fears come knocking and I think of all the times he shut down, self-destructed, shut me out and pushed me away. It was so hard to get to where we are now. There was so much to overcome and even though the majority of it is behind us, we still have our battles, we still have our issues, we still have days where we struggle to move forward. We overcame the impossible…but just barely.

I'm terrified. I want to tell him because he's my best friend and ever since he came back to us, he has been nothing but supportive and caring. I let my walls down and allowed myself to rely on him and love him again. He takes care of me and I need his assurance. At this very moment I want him to tell me that everything will be okay but I'm not sure if he can in this situation even though I probably need it now more than ever.

I don't know what I'll do if he shuts down again. I don't know if my heart can take it, not again. And then there's Denzel and Marlene…

We should have talked about this. Cloud and I have literally talked about everything _but_ this. It was kind of like unwritten law. We had agreed that we didn't need to bring another life to this overpopulated, underfed, damaged Planet. We needed to help those that were already here, those we'd inadvertently harmed, those like Denzel. Still, I realize now we should have discussed _what-if_ but things like that weren't always easy with Cloud Strife.

I'm getting ahead of myself. I need to calm down and take this one step at a time. I need to stop acting like a sixteen year old who has to tell her parents she's knocked-up.

I guess I should get a doctor's appointment now. That is the logical next step I suppose. Then, if they confirm what I'm already fairly sure is true, I'll tell…someone. Then I'll panic and contemplate all of the _coulda-woulda-shoulda's._

But first, I have to get rid of all the evidence. Pulling myself together, I get up and put all the boxes and tests into a garbage bag.

* * *

I hate going to the doctor. I hate all the paperwork (I blame Reeve and the WRO for some of the nonsense I'm having to fill out). I hate the waiting. I hate the smell. I hate the lighting. I hate all of it even though this clinic is set up like a friendly little house. I even dreaded coming here despite the fact that I had a few days to mentally prepare myself.

I try to fill out all the paperwork for my appointment but I can't focus. I can't think straight. I'm twitchy. I keep tapping the end of my pen on the clipboard as I try to remember my social and the last time I had an appointment here.

Eventually, I get to the section of the paperwork that asks me about my marital status. I have to remind myself that I am indeed married and that technically, my last name is Strife. At least for now my last name is Strife. We will see how long that lasts if I have to tell Cloud I'm pregnant.

The thought of Cloud sends a wave of nausea through me. The whole room is suddenly too bright. My senses feel almost…heightened. I flinch at the sudden brightness and how _loud_ suddenly everything has gotten. The clock is like gunfire and all the pens scraping on paperwork throughout the room are like Behemoth claws on a chalkboard.

Massaging my temples and holding my head down, I try to drown it all out. I try to make it stop.

"… _Strife…"_

"… _Mrs.…?"_

" _I think that's her over there…"_

" _Mrs. Strife?!"_

" _Is she okay…?"_

" _Mrs. Strife!"_

Blinking rapidly, I look around the room, realizing that everyone is staring at me.

"Hmm?" I manage to mutter, my mind still a bit foggy, a dull humming still droning away in my ears.

There is a rather annoyed looking nurse looking at me expectantly and I realize that it is time for me to go in and see the doctor.

Slowly, I get to my feet and make my way to the nurse. People are whispering and staring at me. A few of the men here look like they are seconds away from leaping up and helping me walk.

I force a smile and will myself to stand straight and confident as I fearlessly hand the flustered nurse my unfinished paperwork.

* * *

I've been waiting for my results for what feels like forever. I've paced the room at least a dozen times. I've read all the charts on the walls. I even briefly considered punching the skeleton in the corner but ultimately chose against it.

My head hurts again so I decide to surrender and sit on the plastic-covered examination table. I keep looking underneath the closed door for shadows, hoping that one of them will stop and not just glide past.

Eventually, the doctor comes in with a red folder and a small smile on her face. She is an older woman with short blonde hair and a round physic but she has a sweet demeanor. She is much more pleasant than the nurse I pissed off earlier.

"Everything looks good, Mrs. Strife. Your urinalysis came back fine. Your blood pressure is great. You are in great physical shape." She flips back and forth through the papers in the folder.

I nod slowly, faking interest because none of that is what I really want to know.

"As for your blood work," she continues and my breath hitches in my throat, "there were no abnormalities but it did confirm that you are pregnant."

I'm sure I am white as a sheet but I manage yet another nod. I think she keeps talking but I can't really hear anything she says.

"Do you have any questions for me?" the doctor adds, her voice rising in an attempt to get my attention. Her expression is soft yet concerned. "About the pregnancy or anything else?"

I smile weakly. "No. I think I'm good. Thank you."

* * *

On my walk home, I keep asking myself how this happened… Well, technically, I know _how_ it happened… And now that I think about it, I probably even know _when_ it happened…

_It's humid, especially for summer in Edge. I'd expect this kind of climate from Mideel or somewhere else further south but not here. Then again, it had been uncharacteristically warm all season._

_I have all of the windows open so that the early morning breeze can fill the space and hopefully take some of the lingering heat back outside with it._

_Plus, the smell of summer is a guilty pleasure for me. Even though we are in the city, I can still almost smell the trees and the grains floating off the wildflowers. If you listen hard enough, you can even hear the birds and the insects chirping and chattering._

_All of this is surprisingly soothing as I lay on my stomach next to Cloud, my arms folded under my head with nothing but a sheet draped across my hips._

_I haven't moved since I rolled off of him a few moments ago._

_He brushes my hair away from my shoulders, revealing more of my bare back so he can draw lazy circles on it. He favors the nook between my shoulder blades and the patch of skin just over my hips._

_The kids are still with Barret for the weekend so any sense of urgency is gone. The bar is closed and we are still in bed like the lazy slobs that we are. We haven't even put our clothes back on from the night before._

_I was about to get up and attempt to do something productive but how am I supposed to get up when he keeps rubbing my back like that?_

_I peek over at him from under my curtain of thick, black hair._

_His hair is still sticking to his forehead; likely the remnant of what had gathered there during our morning…_ activities _. I know he is hot even if he isn't complaining about it. But afterglow has that effect on people sometimes. However, I have to admit there is something strangely arousing about getting that hot during sex. There is also something distinctly gross about it. There was a point where I thought we might actually be permanently fused together._

_My lips curl up and I know I'm smiling like a goofball. I'm smiling in a way that would have been foreign to both of us a few years ago. But_ _I smile because I'm happy. I might even be happier than I've ever been. I have everything I've ever wanted and if I were to die right now, I'd be content…_

We'd stayed in bed most of the day. I can only assume that's when it happened. I remember that day clearly. I remember how unnaturally happy I'd been. Looking back, I guess I shouldn't have tempted fate...

My hand instinctively goes to my stomach.

I suppose the how and the when don't matter now. What continues to stick out in my mind now is: how am I supposed to break this to Cloud?


	4. Cloud

I like to consider myself relatively observant – at the very least more observant than I used to be (which, granted, still isn't saying much). I see things and am capable of making deductions. For a long time, I could only  _see_  things and even then, sometimes I wouldn't  _really_   _see_ them. Simply functioning was a challenge.

But things are different now and I know there is something going on with Tifa. I can see it. I can sense it. Things have been off since she first got sick a while back. I'm starting to think that there is more to her sickness. I think she might sicker than she realizes. I'm not a doctor but I'm pretty sure she should be better by now. Right?

I come home early from my deliveries to check on her only to find the bar closed and Tifa gone.

This does nothing for my suspicion or my worry. What if she is  _really_  sick? What if her sickness was merely a sign of some underlying condition or disease? Worse yet, what if it is something potentially fatal?

I can't bear the thought of that. I can't lose Tifa. Losing Tifa would be the equivalent of chopping off my own limbs. I'd lose all motor function and then ultimately bleed to death.

I'm not able to dwell on this long before Tifa comes in. Her eyes are dark and puffy, her posture gaunt. Her gaze meets mine and she looks surprised to see me before she pales.

"Where have you been?" I ask. I see no point in beating around the bush. I've been giving her time and space but I can't hold it in anymore. My concern officially outweighs my courtesy.

She sighs and throws what appears to be some kind of prescription onto the counter.

"I was at the doctor."

I'm somewhat relieved that she has gone to the doctor. Clearly, something has been wrong and maybe, whatever it is has been caught early enough that it can be treated easily. Maybe it isn't too serious. Maybe it is just some kind of virus or a weird strain of flu. Between the damage Shinra did to the Planet and the issues with the Lifestream after Meteor, such things weren't impossible. Geostigma was proof of that.

"Are you okay?"

There is a long pause where she says nothing. She just stares at the floor for a long time. "Yeah... Yeah, I'll be fine."

She's hiding from me. She's still not telling me everything.

"I'm gonna lie down for a while." Before I can ask any more questions, she brushes past me.

I grab her arm and gently (yet firmly) pull her back.

"Don't shut me out. If something is wrong, you need to talk to me," I insist but I don't sound as stern as I'd hoped I would. Things often sound a lot different in my head.

She mumbles something snarky about  _the shoe on the other foot._

It's moments like these that I realize how much we have in common. Or maybe how alike we have become over the years. It is only natural that after all this time and close proximity that we'd rub off on each other. We sometimes (but certainly not always) do similar things in the name of self-preservation and the desire to protect those we love.

"I've been very patient with you, Tifa," I continue when I realize she isn't going to say anything else. "I've given you time and space but I need you to tell me what's going on. I can't play dumb anymore. Now tell me."

I am not a pushy person. Some would probably even call me evasive but when I've decided to confront something, I can't be deterred and I have decided to confront this head on.

"At least tell me what the doctor said," I add, attempting a different approach to get something out of her.

She hesitates, her dark eyes low and away as she clearly contemplates… _something_. She is likely debating on whether or not she wants to continue lying to me or if she actually wants to come clean. That would suggest that she is afraid of my reaction, which makes some of my old guilt flutter around in my gut.

"Tifa." I grab her shoulders as if I'm going to shake her. I'm trying desperately to make any kind of contact with her. She feels distant. She's farther from me than she has been in a long time.

Her eyes finally find mine again but I still can't get a read on her. There is so much in her gaze, in her expression that it is almost blank. It can't seem to make up its mind.

"I'm pregnant."

I don't react. I can't react. I think my eyes widen but that's it. I react by hardly reacting at all.

Something in the back of my mind is screaming at me to do something, to say  _something_  but I can't. I'm in shock.

We stare at each other for a long time until my hands slip from her shoulders. As soon as she's free from my grip, she walks to the nearest booth, sits, and stares out the window.

Unthinking, I head to the booth too and sit across from her but I still have no idea what to say.

She's pregnant. How? When? Why? And how long has she known?

I'm reeling. There is so much going through my head that I can't begin to confront  _any_ of it.

Honestly, I wasn't even sure we were capable of conceiving a child naturally. Between her old injuries and the experiments on my body. Not to mention scientists are still studying all kind of theories about the damage prolonged Materia use can cause. Despite all that, we still took precautions but…

Like always, Tifa is the first of us to react.

"Can you talk to me?" she says calmly but she also sounds anxious, like she is afraid of what my response will be. There is a little tremor in her throat. "Can you tell me what you're thinking?"

I blink. Probably not my finest moment…

She shakes her head, clearly disappointed in my nonverbal reply but also not the slightest bit surprised by it.

"We'll get through this," I say but I don't know how sure I manage to sound considering I am still in shock. "We will get through this just like we've gotten through everything else."

She nods but I can see that this still isn't the reaction she was hoping for. She knows I've gone into autopilot and that I'm just saying what I think needs to be said.

Tifa sits there a while longer, staring out the window at something. I realize she probably isn't so much looking at something but rather trying to look at something that _isn't_  me.

Seconds later, she leaves and I don't go after her. I honestly need a moment to… _process_  this. The space might do us some good.

Once her footsteps fade, I go to the bar and seriously consider opening a bottle of Corel alcohol and downing the whole thing but manage to refrain.

I keep trying to wrap my mind around what this means but it is as if my mind has short-circuited. The same two gears keep grinding against one another and I am making no progress.

Tifa is pregnant.  _We_  are pregnant which means that we are going to have a baby, a human life that will rely on us for everything, a living, breathing (helpless) soul that will quite literally be a palpable combination of us.

I decide to pull out an old trick from my hat of dysfunction. When I was sick with Geostigma and suffering from Mako-poisoning, I used to force myself into someone else's shoes (usually Zack's) to gain a sense of normalcy. For example, I'd think how someone  _normal_  would respond to a certain question or situation. So I try to do the same thing here because right now I don't really know how I feel.

How would a normal person respond to this news? Should I be happy, excited, or nervous? Maybe some combination of all three? First and foremost, I know that I have to be supportive. Tifa needs me…but I don't know if I have any strength to give her.

Sometimes, despite how much has changed, I still doubt myself. I still feel inept. I still sometimes think of how undeserving I am of everything I've obtained and how Tifa and the kids deserve more than me, how they deserve better.

I don't feel this way much anymore because of how we've grown individually and together as a family. Life has gotten so much better that it is often surreal. But I will never be normal. I am still Cloud Strife. The past can't be erased. The physical, mental, and emotional damage is still there. It isn't as prominent but it still resides in me, throbbing somewhere under my skin, simmering deep beneath the surface waiting for something to bring it to a boil.

Ultimately, after I'm finished brooding, I decide to give Tifa my presence. I decide to at least be in the same room as her. It is the very least I can do. I don't want her to think that I've left, that I'm abandoning her.

In fact, running hadn't even crossed my mind until now, which honestly kind of surprises me. For a while, that had been my knee jerk reaction to things and I get a strange sense of pride knowing that I hadn't even considered it. At least I have that going for me…

I walk to our room and find her curled up on our bed with a pillow in her arms.

She's in a tank top and shorts. Her hair is down. She's let it grow out again. It is almost as long as it was when we were with AVALANCHE. It flows all around her, spilling onto the bed and the pillow she's holding.

Tifa seems vulnerable and young but it is oddly endearing. She manages to look stunning despite how weary she is.

"Don't do that." She wipes at her eyes but I can't tell if she is actually wiping tears or not. She may just be afraid some fell out without her consent.

"Do what?" I challenge, my brow knitting together.

"Look at me like I'm an alien." She brings her legs to her chest, curling into a little ball of embarrassment. It's cute.

"…I didn't realize I was…"

"You are." Tifa sits up slowly. "You're looking at me differently."

"It's kind of hard not to," I admit flatly.

She looks at me, but again, I can't really get a read on her. It is a strange expression but there is something beseeching in her eyes.

I sigh, sit in the chair across the room, and rest my forearms across my knees.

"I'm not gonna sit here and pretend that I know what to say or what to do. I don't. And I'm pretty sure you already know that."

Tifa blinks, her long, thick eyelashes grazing her cheekbones but aside from that, she remains very still as she hangs on every word I say.

"And I'm gonna be honest, I'm mortified. But…I'm here for you. Whatever you need." I look her right in the eye and the corners of my mouth twitch. "Like I said, we'll face this together."

She nods and suddenly looks relieved, like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. She is still uneasy but she seems more like herself.

I'm not really sure what else to say, so I get up and lie on the bed next to her. We don't touch. We just lie there facing each other, feeding off the other's presence. It is oddly therapeutic. It always has been but it feels a bit different. It's a strange sensation. It isn't necessarily bad. It's just…different. Things are already shifting and changing. I feel it.

Eventually, she places her hand on top of mine. It is a subtle action but it is strangely intimate, even through the glove I'm wearing.

I grab her wrist with my other hand and gently tug her towards me, giving her the opportunity to resist or refuse if she chooses. This is an old habit of mine. It is how I ask questions without actually having to ask them.

Tifa inches closer and my arm goes around her. She melts against me as I stare at the window across the room. The afternoon sun is causing the dust in the room to float around like a bizarre golden snowstorm as I start retreating into my mind.

Another lifetime ago, I used to think about a family, about kids of my own. That was… _before._  After everything we went through, things like a white picket fence and kids running around in a green backyard were unfathomable. The Planet had other needs. I had a lifetime of debts to repay. Selfishness just wasn't an option anymore and things like that felt inexcusably selfish. What right did I have to be selfish? To be happy?

My mindset over the past few years has changed though. I am not nearly as hard on myself, but years ago, I vowed to live life for those who died. I'd decided that was the only way to atone for what I'd done, for everything that happened. That was the only way to be forgiven. That was the only way I could learn to live with myself.

I still believe that living life is the best way for me to earn forgiveness but I slowly became a lot more lenient on what kind of life I allowed myself to live. Without Geostigma and after obtaining a much healthier mentality, the overwhelming guilt began to wane. I was able to forgive myself and that opened a lot of doors. I was able to find happiness again. I was able to love and be loved in return. That was when I really and truly began to _live_  again.

Yes, I gave myself some leeway, a lot more than I ever thought I'd be capable of but still. This was never part of the plan. I never thought  _this_ would happen. I just never really considered it and now that it's happened, there is a lot to think about. There is a lot to talk about. This is going to change  _everything_ …for all of us.

Tifa buries her face in my chest and grabs handfuls of my shirt.

Aimlessly, I run my fingers through the length of her hair and glide my hand up and down her back.

I try to quiet my thoughts and focus on holding her. I try to hone in on the peaceful rhythm of her breathing, but I keep thinking about all the things I need to say, all the things we need to talk about. But I can't really comprehend them, much less talk about them.

I tell myself that it can wait. Right now, this, here, with her…is enough. I may be wrong but I think this is what she needs from me and I won't deny her what she needs.

"I'm scared too," she whispers against my neck as she subconsciously rubs the texture of my shirt between her fingers.

It's weird to hear Tifa say she is afraid. She'd admitted to being afraid of her feelings for me before but aside from that, Tifa has never admitted to being afraid of much of anything. In my mind, she is this pillar of strength, optimism, and resilience. Anything else is usually foreign on her.

"It'll be okay," I finally say and I'm not sure whom I'm trying to convince but as the words leave my mouth, I think I might actually believe them. "Everything's gonna be okay."

I hear the distinct sound of the kids coming home. Doors are shutting, bags are hitting the floor, and gentle voices echo throughout the space and into our room.

My eyes connect with Tifa's and I know we are thinking the same thing.

_What are we going to say to them?_

Tifa's eyes are wide and beseeching as she shakes her head.

"I don't want to tell them. Not yet. It's still really early…"

For some reason, her implication hits me right in the gut.

I swallow hard and I can't keep my eyes from wandering to her stomach. Yes, I'm still in shock. None of this feels real. It is as if I'm watching this happen to someone else from afar. But her words make me realize how emotionally invested I am already. The thought of her potentially losing the baby sends a strange pain into my chest.

I nod my understanding.

"Thank you," she whispers.

A part of me is relieved she wants to wait. I'm not mentally or emotionally prepared to tell anyone, not even the kids. Honestly, I'm not even sure how the kids will react to this. Marlene will probably be happy and Denzel probably will be too but his reaction might be a little…different.

We get up and Tifa starts making her way to the bathroom but before she gets too far, I grab the smooth curve of her elbow.

She stops instantly and comes back, hearing my silent plea. It still amazes me how well she has learned to read me, and all forms of my nonverbal communication.

As I look down at her, I try my hardest to appear earnest and…sturdy.

"I love you." My grip on her tightens slightly. "You know that, right?"

"I do now." She winks at me and gives my other hand a gentle squeeze.

I smile and it's a genuine (and probably dopey) smile. I can't help myself.

She pats my chest almost playfully. "You go ahead and head down. Let them know we're here. I'll be down in a minute."

I do as she suggests, albeit a bit reluctantly. I can't shake the persistent feeling of needing to be close to her, to not leave her side, but I manage to go into the heart of the bar to meet up with the kids even though I have absolutely  _no_  idea how I'm going to feign our imitation of normalcy. I'm still reeling but life goes on no matter what. I've learned that lesson well.


	5. Tifa

When I privately signed the nonverbal, figurative contract that is Cloud Strife, I knew what I was getting into. I knew that he was complicated. I knew he wasn't normal. I knew that he was genetically compromised and that he'd suffered from Make poisoning not once but twice. And I knew that at his worst, he was damaged, depressed, and sometimes even borderline schizophrenic. I knew it would be hard. I knew it wouldn't be easy.

When we went to the courthouse, I remember kind of laughing at the vows and all the paperwork we had to go through prior because I had privately agreed to all of these terms (and more) a hundred times over in my head.

Cloud in and of himself was like a contract with several different clauses that you stumble across as you go. I loved him and because I loved him I agreed to each clause even though I didn't necessarily like some of the terms and conditions. That's not to say that I didn't think of backing out during some of our darker days. I would question my judgment and the choices I'd made but I would suffer through each of them, taking on the good and the bad. Because that's what you do when you love someone, right?

Despite all my preparation, despite how many times I've gone through this metaphorical and figurative contract, nothing really prepared me for the circumstances that accompanied our pregnancy. It didn't really resonate until the reality of the situation really sank in. The realization that we were indeed having a baby changed my perspective and left me with a rather heavy question that I was forced to confront…

Will Cloud's genetic makeup affect the baby?

Because I never thought Cloud and I would have children of our own, I didn't dwell on things like his genetics and heredity. Why would I? In my mind, despite what I knew about him, Cloud was simply… _Cloud_. He was altered but he was still human. He wasn't one of Hojo's experiments. He wasn't a clone of Sephiroth. He wasn't loaded with enough Mako to kill a Behemoth.

But he was… He was all of those things, and because of that I now question what may or may not be passed on to our child.

I don't know much about the Jenova Project outside of what we'd learned from personal experiences/encounters over the years but I do know that Cloud does hold the last known fragments of Jenova's cells and because of that, both Jenova and Sephiroth are a part of his DNA and because of that, I would speculate that it is possible that they could be passed on.

But this is just speculation. I'm certainly not a scientist and there is no proof to verify my theory. We'd have no way of knowing for sure. None of the men who came about as a result of the Jenova Project are living and none of them had reproduced sexually. Our case is unprecedented.

I try not to let it bother me. There is no reason to suspect that Cloud's pure genes (the genes he was born with) won't be passed on to our baby. And even if they don't, it doesn't make a difference. Not really. I am keeping this baby. What really and truly matters to me is its health and of course, it's happiness.

But I would be lying if I said it didn't unnerve me. Sometimes, it made me downright sick if I thought about what it really meant.

If Cloud has Jenova's cells in him (which he does), then the baby I'm carrying could have some variation of those same cells in it. So…technically, a part of Jenova and a part of Sephiroth…are in  _me_ …

But I don't dwell on it. I can't. I can't think about little psychotic Sephiroth babies running around, children like Kadaj screaming: ' _Mother!'_

Sometimes I think about calling Vincent or Reeve and trying to get more information out of them, to get another opinion or some kind of clarification. I never follow through though. I don't really want them to know and if I start asking questions like this, they'll know that I'm pregnant.

I don't say anything to Cloud because I don't want him to think that I'm bothered by it even though I know that he has thought about all this too. He probably thought about it before I did and he probably beats himself up over it too and if I can spare him some guilt and suffering, then I'm going to do it.

Pushing the thoughts away, I try to continue working on my little list instead of just mindlessly doodling along the edges of the paper.

A few years ago, if someone told me I'd find writing a list therapeutic, I'd laugh. In fact, I probably would have laughed at this scenario entirely.

Never in a million years would I have thought I'd be sitting at a bar pregnant with Cloud Strife's baby and filling out a list of things that need to be done regarding said baby. Not just the baby but also our family in its entirety.

As I sit at the bar itself, I just write down anything and everything that crosses my mind.

Once the initial shock faded, I had time to focus on other matters (and not just what affect Cloud's past will have on our future). I think about all the things it will need, which led to things  _we_  would need. I cover everything from personal musings to baby bottles.

Moments like these are when I miss my mother the most. At times like this, I wish she were still here to give me advice. It would be great to get some insight from someone who has been through all this before. But the last maternal figure in my life was long gone.

Sure, I had Barret but Barret had never gone through childbirth or a pregnancy for that matter. Not to mention the fact that I'm not even remotely ready to tell him about our pregnancy. Not yet.

" _TIFA!"_

I jump a little at the sound of Marlene's voice. I swear my senses have heightened tenfold over the past few days. She's not anywhere near me but it seems like she just shouted in my ear.

"Yes?" I call, hoping I won't have to get up. This is the first time I've sat down all day.

" _I have a weird rash on my back…!"_

* * *

Marlene has chocobo pox. Whoever coined the old phrase  _when it rains, it pours_ is a genius because I have never heard anything more true.

Seventh Heaven is closed. Again. I am now at peace with the fact that I will probably lose all my clientele by the time this place regains a normal schedule again but it can't be helped.

However, Marlene did manage to contract them later in the week, which means we get the weekend to recover. Plus, it isn't uncommon for us to close the bar on some weekends. We can just count this as an unconventional vacation of sorts but instead of going somewhere fun like the beach or a cabin, we are staying in...visiting with chocobo pox.

I am beyond thankful that Cloud, Denzel, and I have already had chocobo pox so we can't contract them again. Otherwise, this place would be shut down for weeks.

I am also thankful for the advancements made in modern medicine. The prescription the doctor gave me for my morning sickness has done wonders. I still get nauseated but it isn't nearly as bad as it was before. I am able to function, which has really come in handy since Marlene got sick.

"We might make more gil if we just remodel and turn this place into a hospital," Cloud muses dryly, his eyes not bothering to leave the map he has spread across one of our many tables.

Denzel laughs from his spot on the couch in the other room.

"Or maybe we should just quarantine Seventh Heaven for a while," he calls.

"I can call in a favor and get us some caution tape and warning signs," Cloud adds, his tone somehow even more sarcastic.

"You two are hilarious." It's my turn to ooze sarcasm as I try to organize all of Marlene's medicine on the counter.

I try not to laugh or encourage the jokes but they are pretty funny despite how dark they are coming from two individuals who almost died of Geostigma.

"When can we get them?" Denzel continues.

"Give me an hour."

"Can we get some masks and a _chocobo crossing_  sign too?"

"Stop!" I beg but I'm snickering.

"What size?" Cloud's tone never loses its lethargic, disinterested edge.

"For the masks or the signs?"

"Both."

"Might as well get some wheelchairs and gurneys too."

I throw a coaster at the back of Cloud's but he doesn't flinch. "She's going to hear you!"

* * *

Despite the teasing, Cloud and Denzel have done their part to help out and try to make Marlene feel better. Denzel has been spending most of his time with her, trying to keep her entertained while she is stuck in bed, and at present, Cloud is out getting takeout from one of Marlene's favorite restaurants.

After putting in a load of dirty clothes, I go to check on Marlene and find her watching what appears to be a horrible action movie with Denzel.

Denzel has created a sort of movie marathon for her complete with popcorn and soda (that Marlene doesn't really feel like eating or drinking but partakes in moderation for Denzel's sake). The Moogle Girl from next door even came by earlier to participate in the marathon for a little while. Marlene sleeps through a lot of parts but Denzel always fills her in on what she missed once she wakes up.

It's sweet. I haven't seen them like this since they were younger and I can't keep from thinking that he does a lot of this because of how Marlene helped us take care of him while he had Geostigma. Given how he feels about illness, I doubt he would do this kind of thing for just anyone.

I get onto the bed and flop onto my back next to Marlene, who is in a cocoon of blankets. My hands automatically go to my stomach and I have to remind myself to position them under my ribs in an inconspicuous manner. Cloud has already dropped the hint that I may be touching my stomach too much for someone who, at this point, is trying _not_  to appear pregnant.

The room is a disaster area. It looks like tissue boxes, popcorn kernels, and medicine bottles went to war with one another and Marlene's room was the battleground. But because she is sick, I don't say anything and start watching the movie with them.

The acting is over the top and the explosions are way too big. I can't keep from thinking about how unrealistic it is but it is oddly entertaining in its cheesiness.

"Does machinery really explode like that?" Denzel asks when a small robotic machine equipped with chainsaws explodes as if it were the size of an airship.

"The ones from Shinra exploded sometimes but it was more like a bunch of little explosions all along the body," I reply. "Usually, it isn't nearly that dramatic. Maybe if you summoned Bahamut to finish them off…"

This makes them laugh. They love to hear Cloud and me talk about our old adventures. Sometimes I think they watch movies like this on purpose so they can ask us questions and see how we'll react.

"And even if they did explode like that, shrapnel would be everywhere," I continue, subconsciously rubbing at one of the silvery scars on my forearm. "Once, Cloud, Barret, and I caught a lot of shrapnel from an explosion a lot smaller than that one. In fact, I'm pretty sure all of us are still carrying some of it around with us."

After a few more fight scenes and massive explosions, there is a romantic scene and even it is over the top. The dialogue is so much that I snicker a little and wonder if some people actually talk to each other this way. These people are saying things that Cloud and I have  _never_  said to each other and even if Cloud  _did_  say these things to me, I would be really uncomfortable. It isn't romantic. It's weird. Or maybe I'm weird for thinking it's weird…

"Did you and Cloud ever kiss in front of an explosion like that?" Marlene teases, mocking the ridiculous movie with me but I can tell that she genuinely wants to know.

I chuckle a little. "No. No, we didn't."

Marlene turns her full attention towards me, the chocobo pox flickering along her face like tiny, red freckles. I am officially more interesting to her than the movie.

"When  _was_  the first time you kissed Cloud?" she asks and I can tell Denzel is honing in on me now.

I blush a little, realizing that I have never talked to them about this. Given how volatile our relationship was for a while, I'm sure they were afraid to ask. Plus, it was probably a little awkward and weird for them.

"Before our fight with Sephiroth, when we were pretty sure he and Meteor were going to kill us all."

_Shortly after we got out of the Lifestream and we were high on each other's thoughts and feelings…and not really thinking clearly…_

I decide to leave out the other parts involving our night under the Highwind. That is a talk for another time…if ever.

"So he wasn't the first boy you kissed?" Marlene sounds a little disappointed.

I shake my head. "Nope."

"Who was?"

"A boy from Nibelheim."

"How old were you?"

"Fifteen-ish."

"Was he cute?"

"Pretty cute." He wasn't anything spectacular. He had short brown hair and gray eyes. When he'd kissed me, I remember being disappointed a) because he'd missed most of my mouth and b) because I had all these stupid blond SOLDIER fantasies floating around in my naïve head.

"Cuter than Cloud?" She smirks playfully even though her eyes are rheumy and her eyelids are heavy. I can tell she still has a fever.

I roll my eyes and sarcastically say:  _"Way_ cuter than Cloud."

I'm thankful Marlene doesn't continue asking questions about our early days and the guys I knew before I found Cloud wandering around a train station smelling like menthol and acting on another man's memories.

I try to be a good example for both of them but the decisions I made in the years immediately following the Nibelhiem incident were not my finest.

"Are you ever gonna teach us self-defense?" Denzel asks when a man starts pummeling a sniper with nothing more than his hands and booted feet.

"I've already taught you a lot of the basics."

Cloud and I have agreed that we don't want to encourage violence, but we also agree that it is important to know how to defend yourself. However, it has been challenging to find a balance without contradicting ourselves or sounding like hypocrites.

"No, I'm talking about the hardcore stuff," Denzel elaborates as he munches on popcorn in the floor closer to the TV.

I sigh. "I'm hoping you won't ever need the hardcore stuff."

"But if I do, don't you want me to be prepared?" Denzel still sometimes tries to use his cuteness to his advantage but it doesn't work like it used to. Now he has more of an awkward, boyish charm and a crooked smile that I am sure will one day be some poor girl's undoing.

I look at him for a long moment before replying. "I'll think about it. No promises."

"Fair enough," Denzel relents, sounding somewhat pacified with my reply.

Thankfully, Cloud comes into the room with food and effectively neutralizes the subject.

Denzel leaps up to meet him, jumping across the bed and looking for his order in the plastic bags Cloud is carrying. Meanwhile, Marlene emerges from her cocoon for the first time since I came in the room.

Silently, Cloud hands Marlene her soup, which is still warm judging by the steam gathering on top of the plastic container.

"Thank you, Cloud," she says politely even though her voice is a bit hoarse.

"You're welcome," Cloud mumbles as he continues handing out food.

"So are we having a picnic in here?" I ask as food, drinks, and plastic containers begin to cover Marlene's bedspread.

"Apparently," Cloud answers and takes his food to Marlene's dressing table on the other side of the room.

"I'll go get some more plates and napkins then."

As I get up, I feel Cloud's eyes on me. He has been pretty attentive since I shared the news with him. He watches me closely regardless of what I'm doing. He doesn't hover but he comes pretty close. It's like he is expecting me to grow a second head or start screeching for his help (I don't plan on doing either).

Still, I'd be lying if I said I didn't like the extra attention. I've never been what you'd call clingy but I've found myself wanting to be closer to him than ever. It is weird. I can't even really explain why. I just assume it is one of those weird pregnancy things everyone talks about.

I make my way to the kitchen and grab some of the extra utensils I think we'll need but when I reach for the napkins, I start feeling…weird. My ears start ringing and I can't really see straight. My head is splitting down the middle and the pain is almost enough to knock my feet out from under me.

I grab the edge of the counter and close my eyes. I try to take in deep breaths, hoping it will help but it's  _so_  loud. The sensation isn't unlike the one I had in the clinic, except there is a dull pain in my abdomen this time.

My hands shoot to my stomach.

I'm suddenly thinking about Jenova and Sephiroth again. Could their fragments be the cause of this? Is that what's causing these headaches, the heightened senses? I know that these are technically normal pregnancy symptoms but they seem…extreme.

I suddenly feel very, very sick and I don't think that medicine the doctor gave me is going to help.

I end up in the floor, numb and kind of stunned into inaction, my legs splayed out in front of me. As I sit there, my pain begins to fade but so does the hope I had for this child to be normal and healthy.

As if magically sensing my distress, Cloud comes in and finds me in the floor in front of the counter between the fridge and the oven.

His eyes are wide with panic as he looks down at me.

I just wave, casually. "Hi."

He rushed towards me.

"I'm fine," I assure him but his eyes tell me that he doesn't believe me. "I'm just kind of…rattled."

"What happened?"

"I had some pain and it got me thinking…"

He waits for me to elaborate, his eyes focused on me. The look he has isn't unlike the one he would get when he thought we were about to stumble upon something bad or be ambushed.

"…about Sephiroth…"

It's been a long time since I've actually said that name out loud and I can't keep myself from squirming. It sometimes feels like he can hear me. His huge presence lingers even now. After all, there technically isn't proof that he and Jenova were entirely purged from the Lifestream. It is very possible that they still exist in some form or another.

Cloud nods his understanding. I don't have to say anything else and I'm grateful for that. Over the years, I have gained new respect for Cloud and Vincent and their lack of communication. Sometimes, you just don't want to talk about things. Sometimes, saying them out loud is too much.

"I mean, it doesn't change anything," I continue as I play with the edges of my shirt. "I'm gonna have this baby no matter what."

Another nod.

"But…?" His eyes are no longer on me but on the floor by his feet. We aren't looking at each other.

"But…we need to acknowledge the possibility that it might not be—"

"Normal? Yeah. I've already thought about that." His tone has taken on its typical curt listlessness. It's his older tone of voice, the one that is almost robotic, the one that is almost chopped, the one that is a clear indication of the experiments and the Mako poisoning he's sustained. It is also a sign that he is retreating into his head and blaming himself. He is wearing his guilt. This is precisely why I didn't want to talk about this with him but for some reason, I couldn't stop myself. I blame my hormones.

"Normal is overrated," I mumble, trying not to get emotional.

"It's probably for the best, you know," he muses, his tone a bit lighter and more fluid. "If it were normal, it wouldn't know how to handle all of us."

Some of the tension dissolves and I laugh a little because it's true. Anything normal would be a black sheep among our band of misfits. So maybe in this case, abnormal might be a good thing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is my thinking... Cloud was one of Hojo's attempts to make a Sephiroth clone, right? And a clone, by definition, is someone (or something) that is genetically identical to someone (or something) else. They are organisms that are exact genetic copies.
> 
> HOWEVER, the extent to which Cloud is identical to Sephiroth is debatable because in the games, I was led to believe that Cloud only acquired Sephiroth's/Jenova's cells, which isn't the same as being a genetic copy. But even if he WASN'T a genetic copy, Jenova's genetic structure is a two-way conduit, meaning it can take on traits of other organisms and also insert its own genes into other organisms and change them…
> 
> Soooo what I am trying to say here is that, in my VERY humble opinion, the matter of the heredity and genetics is debatable but it also ISN'T impossible given the circumstances and Jenova's VERY weird (and complex) nature. SOOOOO for the sake of plot and this story, I am going to PRETEND that it is at least possible but please keep in mind that even CANON is a work of FICTION. Technically, none of this is possible. I am simply toying with the idea of WHAT IF for shits and giggles. So let's try to leave some logic at the door and enjoy ourselves! Besides, this might not even have any relevance later on. I mainly wanted to voice my opinion and explain why I presented this the way I did but who knows? I guess we will just have to wait and see what develops in later chapters! ;)
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and humoring my ridiculously lengthy author's note!


	6. Cloud

The past few weeks went by in a blur. Surprisingly, things haven't changed much since I learned that we are going to have a baby. So far, the hardest part has been acting like nothing has changed when, in fact, it has.

I am not sure how well we are doing at keeping the matter private though. Tifa keeps doing little things to her stomach. She pulls at her shirts, trying to stretch them. Her wardrobe has changed slightly. It has become a bit more modest. Meanwhile, I am working less and spending more time at home.

I try not to stare. I try not to hover. I try to act indifferent, but the dynamic between Tifa and me has shifted. It isn't a dramatic difference but a difference nonetheless.

Tifa hasn't done any of the stereotypical pregnancy things you hear about. She hasn't been overly emotional. She hasn't had any unusual cravings.

I keep waiting for these things to happen but they never do. Then again, all of that might come later in the pregnancy. I wouldn't know. I'm not exactly familiar with this kind of thing.

I wake to the sound of running water. The space in bed next to me is empty, signaling that Tifa is the one in the shower.

Briefly, I wonder how long she's been awake. She's been struggling with nightmares lately, which has impacted our sleep schedule. The nightmares keep her awake and I stay awake to comfort her.

Tifa and I are no strangers to insomnia. When you live the kind of life that we have, nightmares are part of the package. You wrestle with them and learn to deal with them until they lose some of their strength. I can't count the number of nights Tifa and I stayed awake together, terrified of what might find us if we returned to the world of our turbulent subconscious. For a long time, we couldn't even find refuge in sleep.

However, up until recently, we were no longer a slave to what might find us in our sleep. Nightmares became a seldom occurrence. When they came, they came with a vengeance but they weren't like they once were. But now, Tifa has been struggling again. She says that it is normal. Pregnancy can apparently cause strange dreams but I doubt most people have the kind of dreams Tifa is capable of.

Yawning, I get up and head to the bathroom.

Tifa is looking at herself in the mirror from different angles. Apparently, she just got out of the shower because she is not wearing much and she is still damp.

For a while I just watch as she tries to suck in her stomach only to follow up by trying to stick it out. She rubs and pushes at her abdomen, looking down at it with a myriad of expressions.

Eventually she senses me. She blushes a little bit but doesn't offer to cover herself or hide the fact that she was eyeing herself in the mirror.

It's funny what years of living together will do to you. Modesty is long gone and things that used to matter don't. It's not that Tifa naked isn't still arousing (trust me, it is) but it has also grown somewhat commonplace because when we see each other like this, it is no longer purely sexual. Since we began sharing even closer quarters, nudity in all forms happens when we are simply getting ready or preparing a shower. You can't help but kind of get used to it.

"Am I showing?" she asks and looks down at her stomach, her hands still resting on top of it.

I tilt my head to the side, wondering how I should respond. Does she  _want_  to be showing? Will she be insulted if I say yes? What if I say no?  _Should_  she be showing?

You are never really supposed to indicate that your wife is gaining weight but at the same time, I don't want Tifa to worry about the baby's wellbeing anymore than she already is.

To me, if there is a difference, it is a very small one. She still looks skinny to me, curvy as always but still skinny. In fact, I think she may have even lost some weight but I don't tell her this.

"Maybe…" I finally say but I don't sound very convincing.

I have, however, noticed her stomach getting tighter. I've always had the habit of putting my hand on bare skin near Tifa's stomach whenever we sleep together. I don't know why I do it but I do. It's subconscious but since learning Tifa was pregnant, I've tried to be more considerate of her and the fact that she might not feel as comfortable with this as she once did. But old habits die hard and sometimes when I'm behind her, my hand goes to her stomach and when it does, feel the ever so slightest of changes.

She gives the mirror another quick glance before sighing and going back into our bedroom.

"We should probably tell the kids soon," she calls as she throws a shirt on over her head. "We are technically at the point where it's  _safe_  to start telling people…but…"

Tifa doesn't continue but she doesn't have to. Our situation isn't exactly ideal. We have both used Materia in excess. I've had Geostigma. I've had Mako poisoning. Twice. I've been experimented on with Jenova cells. The list goes on… There are so many things that could go wrong.

I have to take a deep breath to calm myself and not let my anxiety spiral out of control. Sometimes I still have to fight the persistent reflex to avoid any and all potential pain. But I have to remind myself of all the good that came from confronting life instead of avoiding it.

"We can wait. If that's what you want," I offer as I fold my arms and lean in the doorway, watching her as she wriggles into her pants.

"I want to tell them…but I don't want them to get their hopes ups. You know?"

"We can tell them the truth. They'll understand."

"You're right. They aren't kids anymore. We don't have to hide the truth from them." She grins impishly at me. "Look at you being all insightful."

"I have my moments." I pry myself out of the doorway and take a few steps toward her. "How do you think they'll take it?"

"It might be a little…jarring at first but I think they'll both warm up to the idea eventually," she replies calmly, as if _we_  weren't still getting use to the idea of this pregnancy. It is still surreal to me, almost like a dream. I keep expecting myself to wake up and find out that it was all in my head.

"I think I'm about to take a shower." My eyes go to her belly and then back to her face. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

She puts a hand on her stomach again. "No. I'm fine."

"Any pain…?" I ask apprehensively. I'm kind of afraid of the answer. I know some pain is normal but she worries me. I think it is worse than she lets on.

"No. I'm still kind of fatigued but I actually feel pretty good right now. Ask me again later." She shrugs a shoulder.

I close the gap between us and she is suddenly in my arms. She's squeezing me, burying her face in my chest. There is something almost desperate in her gasp, like she is begging me for something.

I'm overwhelmed by her scent, her damp hair and her lips innocently grazing my bare skin. Hers is a warm, comforting smell kind of like toasted sugar and vanilla lavender (the latter coming from the soap and shampoo she uses). A lot of things have changed over the years but my body will never stop reacting to the very smell of her.

"We can talk to the kids tonight when I get back if you want." I aimlessly run my fingers through the length of her hair.

Tifa takes in a deep breath and kind of smiles up at me. "We might as well get it over with."

I brush some of her hair out of her face and then her lips meet mine. Her arms wrap around my neck and her hands go into my hair, her nails nibbling at the nape of my neck.

Suddenly, she is flush against me. The kiss deepens, her mouth gliding along mine as she tilts her head back for me. My hands squeeze at her waist but they are itching for bare skin and my head is getting fuzzy with longing.

It has been a long time since she has kissed me like this. Sure, we kiss but this is different than what I usually get. This is almost like a kiss from a lovestruck teenager. This has fire in it.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe her hormones are doing something to her after all…

"Don't tempt me…"I groan against her mouth. I'm trying to be respectful of the fact that she is stressed and uncomfortable most of the time…but she is making it hard for me to be the silent gentleman I usually am.

She laughs breathlessly and it does nothing for the ever-increasing need I feel to get closer to her.

"Sorry." Tifa pulls back, licking at her flushed lips. "You can take your shower now."

Blinking like a dope, I try to recover and think about something else…like Barret in a bikini.

"Make that a cold shower…" I grumble as I head for the bathroom.

"What?"

"Nothing."

* * *

That afternoon, I come home early but I still wasn't early enough to get home before the kids came back from school. Some of the deliveries took longer than I'd hoped and then I hit a patch of monsters so punctuality just wasn't in the cards for me today.

When I enter the bar, Marlene and Tifa are at a booth working on homework together.

"Hey." I shut the door behind me and approach them. "Where's Denzel?"

"He went to meet up with some friends after he came in and grabbed a snack," Tifa replies calmly but her eyes don't leave Marlene's work.

"Oh."

He stays out longer than he used to. He comes home, eats and then goes out again. He is very back and forth but he is at that age I guess. Hanging out with us is not as entertaining as it used to be.

"He shouldn't be gone long. I told him to come back in time for dinner and homework."

I nod.

I'm not necessarily in any hurry to share the news. It can wait until he gets home. Besides, I still don't know what I'm going to say so this will give me time to think about it.

Leaving Marlene and Tifa to their studies, I start doing little things around the residence. I pick up clothes, do some laundry, and wash some of the dishes in the sink. I even offer to make dinner but Tifa insists that she already has something in the oven, so I don't interfere.

Marlene finishes her homework and heads to her room while I start working on some of my routes and Tifa works on dinner. But we even manage to finish these tasks before there is any sign of Denzel, so for a little while, there was nothing for us to do but wait.

Eventually, he busts into the bar, carelessly throwing his bag to the floor as he does so. Clearly, he is not worried about any of its contents.

"You're late," Tifa chides lightly.

"By like ten minutes," he mumbles.

"Sit." I point to an empty chair at the nearest table. "We're gonna have a quick talk before dinner."

"Marlene! Come on! Denzel's back!" Tifa calls and approaches Denzel and me.

"Who's in trouble?" he asks as he apprehensively and reluctantly sits down.

I want to say _, "All of us"_  but I realize that would probably hurt Tifa's feelings, so I refrain.

"No one," I say instead.

"Okay… Then, what's wrong?"

Denzel is growing more skeptical by the minute, but Marlene isn't concerned at all as she calmly sits down next to him.

I look at Tifa and something in her eyes reminds me of our days on the battlefield together. It's the look she always gave me just before she was about to go right for the throat of whatever it was we'd encountered.

"We're gonna have a baby," she says matter-of-factly. "I'm pregnant."

The silence that follows is palpable. They are both stunned and Denzel's attitude is suddenly gone.

Marlene recovers first, jumping to her feet and hugging Tifa. "Oh my gosh! Congratulations!"

"Thank you," Tifa replies halfheartedly as she pats her back.

"W-was this planned?" Denzel stutters, his eyes darting between us. "Were you trying t—"

"No." Tifa and I reply immediately.

Marlene is all over Tifa as she starts asking all kinds of baby/pregnancy questions.

" _How far along are you?"_

" _When's the due date?"_

" _Do you want a boy or a girl?"_

" _Have you felt it move yet?"_

Denzel, however, remains quiet and contemplative. His reaction reminds me of my own. He is stunned and unsure.

"That explains a lot," he muses, his expression still kind of unreadable. "I knew something was going on with you two."

"Yeah," I laugh dryly. "We figured you did."

"Can I tell Papa?" Marlene asks eagerly.

Tifa shifts uncomfortably and I have this strange urge to get closer to her. I manage to swallow it down.

"Sure but…would you mind if we waited a little longer? It's still pretty early and…well, you two know about our past. We aren't entirely sure what impact that will have on the baby but we have to acknowledge that…there is a possibility that something can go wrong. We honestly weren't even sure this could happen at all."

Marlene's smile falls a little and Denzel's indifferent expression shifts to a more solemn, contemplative one. It never fails to amaze me how attached you can get to something by simply learning that it exists.

"Still, none of that means that the baby won't be completely healthy," she continues.

"Right." Marlene smiles again. "Of course not."

Marlene's eyes go to Tifa's stomach. "Can I feel?"

Tifa nods and leads Marlene to the couch were she stretches out on her back as much as she can. Tifa lifts her shirt over her belly button and rubs at the slight curve in her stomach like she is searching for something.

"It's still pretty small but you can kind of feel a tightness, almost like a little knot." Tifa grabs Marlene's hand and puts it on the  _'knot'_ in her lower abdomen she's referring to.

Marlene has a very pensive look on her face as she lightly presses on Tifa's stomach. Her brow furrows together as she searches intently for any sign that there is indeed a baby in her stomach.

Smiling, Tifa moves Marlene's hand a little lower and applies more pressure.

"Ah!" Marlene squeaks. "I feel it! Is that it?!"

Tifa laughs and her smile grows. It is a huge, bright smile that radiates from her eyes. I haven't seen her smile like this in a while and it sets off a chain reaction. I'm suddenly grinning like a moron.

"That's it." Tifa chuckles, making her and Marlene's hands wiggle. "It's probably about the size of a strawberry."

I can't remember the last time I saw Marlene this excited about something. It's nice. It's also good for Tifa. Her demeanor has changed dramatically in the short time that has passed since we told the kids. Marlene's enthusiasm is contagious.

"Do you want to feel, Denzel?" Tifa teases, already knowing the answer.

He shakes his head and laughs nervously but he can't hide his smile.

"No. I think I'm good."


	7. Cloud

"No."

"Come on! Please!" Marlene begs, trying to pull my attention from my workbench in the garage. "It'll be good practice!"

Marlene has become very enthusiastic about the baby. This is a good thing because we need all the support we can get, but it's a bad thing because she now wants us to babysit…for Cid Highwind.

"No," I repeat.

"But Cloud!" Marlene drawls, her shoulders sagging.

I sigh and put the wrench back into the toolbox. I thought Denzel and I could try to do some work on the new part I got for Fenrir. I was wrong.

"Marlene, I don't think you understand what you're asking for…" I say without looking at her. "Besides, Tifa doesn't need the practice."

"She doesn't but  _we_ do," Marlene insists. "Come on,  _please_!"

I look at Denzel, desperate for assistance. "What do you think about all this?"

"I'd rather not," he admits sheepishly from his position on the ground next to Fenrir.

Marlene crosses her arms and huffs at us. She has almost mastered Tifa's disapproving stare.

Admittedly, I have a weakness when it comes to Marlene and Denzel. I always have. They get to me and find the cracks in the walls I surround myself with and chip away at me until I give.

"Fine…" I grumble, regretting it almost instantly.

"Really?! You mean it?!" Marlene hops on her heels, bouncing with anticipation. I think she is a few seconds from grabbing my shoulders and shaking me.

"I guess…"

"But Cloud!" Denzel leaps up and rushes towards me. "It's Cid Highwind  _Junior_  we're talking about!"

"I'm aware." I take out my phone and start going through my contacts.

"Don't you remember what happened the last time we agreed to babysit for Cid?!" Denzel puts his hands on my workbench and almost puts himself between my phone and me, clearly trying to distract me from my task. He wants to prolong the inevitable.

I sigh heavily and rub at my eyes. "I remember…"

It was kind of hard to forget. When Junior was almost two, Cid and Shera had to go out of town for a while and asked us to watch him. Tifa had agreed and the following hours were pure chaos for us. I'd privately sworn to avoid keeping him again at all costs…but that was before Tifa was pregnant and before Marlene started begging for a chance to improve her child rearing skills.

Moments like these really make me wish that I were more capable of telling the kids no.

* * *

" _Cloud?!"_

I sigh and stop my work on Fenrir's underbelly.

"Yeah?" I shout and prepare to have my work interrupted yet again. I am  _still_ trying to install the latest part I bought for Fenrir.

" _Do we still have any of Denzel and Marlene's old toys? Or did we give all of them away?"_

Hell if I know. I can't keep up with all the junk we've packed up and stored away. We have accumulated quite a hoard over the years and most of said hoard isn't even kids' stuff. We have everything from furniture to Materia to weaponry.

The concrete of the garage floor is cool against my back as I haul an arm over my eyes and try to remember if any toys are still in this building.

_Probably not…_

" _Did you hear me?"_

"Yeah." I pause longer than is socially acceptable but Tifa waits all the same because she knows that this is still typical procedure for me. "I think there might be some in the kids' closets. I'll check out here too."

" _Okay."_

As expected, Fenrir will have to wait. I slide out from under the bike and prepare to sort through some of the shit we've packed away in the garage.

Junior isn't even here yet and he's already turned this place into madhouse.

After I find a couple of dust-covered boxes and bring them into the open so I can inspect their contents, it occurs to me that Tifa probably shouldn't be looking for boxes on top of lofty shelves in cramped closets by herself. She doesn't need to do any heavy lifting either but knowing her, she'll try to do so anyway.

Wiping some of the oil and grease on my hands onto my white t-shirt, I open the door to the main part of our home (which was no easy task since my hands were still grimy).

Marlene is at a booth. I think she's making a rather detailed schedule for our evening with Junior. It'll never work but I'll let her have her fun.

"Where is she?" I ask.

Her eyes leave her paper only for a moment before they flicker back down to her task.

"I think she went to Denzel's room."

I nod, making my way through the bar and into the hall.

"Tifa?" I call, peeking into Denzel's empty room.

" _In here!"_  Her voice echoes further down the hallway.

I find her in Marlene's room in the walk-in closet on a step stool reaching for a box on a shelf.

Sighing, I grab her by the waist and pick her up.

"What?" she grouses as I carry her out of the closet. "Hey!"

"You don't need to be doing this kind of thing alone," I murmur and put her safely on the ground.

She rolls her eyes and puts her hands on her hips. "I'm pregnant. Not handicapped. There's a difference."

Tifa prepares to shove her way past me and reenter the closet but I block her path.

Her eyes widen with surprise before they narrow. "Stop."

I turn my back on her and head into the closet, resolving to take care of this myself.

She grabs my arm and tries to pull me back. "Go back to the garage. I can handle this."

I ignore her and climb the stepladder so I can get the offending box.

"Cloud Strife, if you don't stop it right now I'm gonna kick your ass!" Tifa tugs at my shirt.

The funny thing is, she is probably only half joking. Hormones and mood swings have finally decided to make an appearance this week. So when I get down, I could very well be facing a Dolfinkick to the ass.

"Too late," I counter as I toss the box onto the floor.

Tifa plops onto the ground by the box and starts digging into it. "Is this what the next seven or so months are going to be like? Are you gonna make me a worthless pregnant lady?"

"If it keeps you safe."

Her expression softens and her eyes glisten with understanding. She knows how hard it was for me to bring myself to care about things after everything that happened. She knows how terrified I've been of happiness and those I care about imploding in my arms. She knows of my fear of loss in all forms. It's been a constant in our lives and she knows that it is still rooted in my damaged heart and that is fuels some of my actions to this day. Only now, I try desperately to hold onto things and protect them instead of pushing them away before they can hurt me.

She casts her gaze back down to the box of junk and starts mumbling something about how I don't play fair.

"No more stepladders and stools while you're alone. Please."

Tifa sighs heavily. "It's not that big of a deal…"

"Please?" I try again.

She waves her hand dismissively. "Yeah. Yeah. Just don't expect me to sit around all day in a rocking chair knitting mittens and baby booties."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

I know Tifa will never stop being active and I don't want that. Tifa wouldn't be Tifa if she weren't spreading herself thin and going above and beyond for those she cares about. I just want her to be careful. I'd never forgive myself if something happened. We don't need to push our luck. Given our unique circumstances, I feel like we're already walking on thin ice.

"When is Cid gonna be here?" I decide to change the subject.

When I called Cid a few days ago, he was quick to take me up on my offer. He said they were overdue for a trip to Edge and that they wanted to see what was available at some of the airships and automotive shops that have opened up around town. Plus, I think they wanted some time to themselves without Junior.

"Not for a few more hours." Tifa pulls out a few toy cars and puts them on the floor. "So you still have time to work on Fenrir's latest modification. I promise I'll behave."

I nod and head back to the garage, knowing good and damn well I probably won't finish before Cid and Shera get here. I figure I may get ten minutes before something or someone interrupts me again.

* * *

Cid Highwind Junior was appropriately named. He was quite literally a copy of Cid Senior. He had dirty blonde hair and wild blue eyes. He even talked like Cid. At the tender age of two, he already had a rather… _colorful_  vocabulary.

I wasn't surprised in the least to see that Cid's aggressive genes had completely dominated poor Shera's.

But you could tell that Shera adored that little boy. Tifa once told me that after they got married, it had been difficult for them to have children, something that may or may not have been the result of her bout with Geostigma. Unlike us, they were  _trying_ to get pregnant. But I understand. They were at a different stage in their lives and frankly, Cid wasn't getting any younger. So, not long after the Deepground incident, they were expecting and not long after that, Cid Junior arrived.

Marlene and Tifa are sitting with Junior in the floor, likely discussing his schedule and what's to be expected with Shera as Junior tugs at her clothes and says nonsense to her despite her talking.

Like his father, Junior likes to talk.

"Haven't seen ya 'round much since ya got hitched," Cid muses as we sit at the bar together. "How's married life treatin' ya?"

"Fine," I reply flatly as I eye the empty glass in front of me. I'd had water but now I'm thinking I probably should have had something stronger.

" _Fine?_  That all?" Cid bellows as he downs his club soda. "You better pray that the little lady don't ever hear ya say that!"

My brow furrows. "What was I supposed to say?"

It wasn't like things had changed  _that_  much. We'd already lived together for years. We already had a family together. It was just a matter of making it official. In fact, it had been a pretty impulsive decision. One day I woke up and decided that we needed to tie up some of our loose ends. I'd realized that it would make everything easier for all of us. And of course, I wanted to give Tifa and the kids the  _'real'_  family they'd always wanted. It was the least I could do after everything I'd put them through over the years and it was a surprisingly easy decision to make. It just…made sense at this point in our lives.

Still, I wasn't without apprehension. Even though we didn't go the traditional route, it was still a marriage, something I'd thought I'd never do, but life has a funny way of showing you that  _never_  can get a lot shorter.

Cid laughs again and shoves a toothpick into his mouth. "Nothin'. It's just funny. You change but ya never change. You're still hopeless."

"Thanks."

"We won't be gone long. We only have a few chores to do. We'll have dinner and be back as soon as we finish." Shera stands and approaches Cid and me at the bar. "Thanks again for offering to take care of him."

Tifa smiles as Junior hovers between her and Shera. "No problem. It's important for you to get some time for yourselves."

"True." Shera bobs her head in acknowledgment.

"Can we go?" Cid barks, leaping from the stool and twirling his toothpick around with his tongue. "I'm so hungry I'd eat the crotch out of a dead leper's underwear."

Shera sighs heavily. "Yes. We can go." She turns her attention back to Tifa and me. "Call if you need us."

"Of course," Tifa replies. "You do the same."

"How long will you be gone?" Junior bounces up to Shera's hip.

"Not too long." Shera pats Junior's head, his scruffy, blonde hair curling between her fingers. "Be good."

Junior stays close to Shera, clearly unsure about her leaving him with us.

"Have fun, little man," Cid says as he heads for the door and Junior instantly puts on a brave face, clearly not wanting to lose his father's respect.

The door shuts behind them and now, it's just Junior and us.

"Do you have any Materia?" he asks, breaking the silence instantly. "Oh, what about some of Pa's old spears? Didn't you have a giant sword too? Pa says your sword was big because you were compensating for something. What does that mean?"

I am so taken aback by the chain of questions that I can't even utter a response. I just blink. He talks  _a lot_  more than he did before. And he babbled a lot before.

Denzel turns his back to snicker as Tifa subtly holds a hand over her mouth but I know she's laughing at me too.

"Um, let's, uh, start with toys and work our way up to advanced weaponry…" I stutter.

"Yeah! We have plenty of old toys we can play with!" Marlene interjects and I'm grateful.

Apparently, the offer suffices and Junior follows Marlene and Denzel across the bar in search of said toys.

"Is it too early to hide in the garage?" I whisper low enough so that only Tifa can hear me.

Tifa punches me in the shoulder (none too gently). "I'm not even gonna answer that."

* * *

As the evening progresses, Marlene remains very enthusiastic and takes her responsibilities as a babysitter very seriously. She has a thorough schedule and a list of activities for the evening. She watches Junior closely and checks on him often. She gives him juice, offers to read to him (only to have him refuse), and even tries to feed him snacks (which he also refuses).

However, despite Marlene's efforts, the only person Junior really warms up to is, of course, Tifa.

He plays with her and even laughs at the things she does. This is fine and all but for the rest of us, it makes him uncooperative. We play board games. Marlene and Denzel even play hide-and-seek with him a while but Tifa is his person (which I understand, she is my person too). She has earned his trust and respect. He has learned that Tifa is the most responsible and reliable of us.

_He's not wrong._

Still, I see that Tifa is getting tired and has grown at bit weary of the clinginess. Like Cid, he is a big personality and it can slowly suck the life out of you. Not to mention the fact that Tifa is still pregnant and is still battling early pregnancy symptoms like fatigue. Earlier, she said something about leg cramps and she's been sitting a lot since.

I decide it's time to step up and take one for the team.

"Wanna see a real motorcycle?" I offer as Junior shoves a toy bike across the floor next to Denzel.

Junior looks up at me with wide eyes filled with wonder.

"Yeah!" he exclaims and to my surprise, he immediately gets up to follow me.

Tifa mouths  _thank you_ as she sinks into the couch, looking weary.

As I pass Marlene, I bob my head in Tifa's direction, silently motioning for her to stay with her. Understanding as always, Marlene translates my silence and goes to Tifa's side.

When Junior and I enter the garage with Denzel, Junior's eyes manage to get even bigger. He starts bouncing all over the place. He goes to my workbench. He goes to the toolbox. He goes to air compressor in the corner. There is so much he wants to investigate that he can't decide where to start, but once he sees Fenrir, everything else is suddenly background noise.

"Can I sit on it?" he asks as he circles the bike like a vulture.

I grab him under his stubby arms and gently put him onto the seat.

Immediately, his hands go to the handlebars and he is making motor noises with his mouth. They're actually pretty impressive.

I stand nearby, making sure that he doesn't fall off or actually turn the engine over. He's been exposed to airships since he was born and I'm pretty sure he is capable of starting Fenrir and taking off.

For a while, he is content to just sit on the bike and use his imagination but soon, I see him getting ideas.

"Can we go for a ride?" he asks, his eyes pleading.

It seems just like yesterday that Denzel was timidly asking me that same question.

Silently, I go to the other side of the garage and grab the sidecar I'd gotten (and then modified) so the kids could ride with me on some of my shorter trips.

"Give me a hand," I call and Denzel rushes over to help instantly.

We hook the sidecar up to Fenrir and I start looking for Denzel's old helmet. I think we still have it…somewhere. I really should reorganize Seventh Heaven and its entirety so I'll know where things are.

"Think Tifa will mind?" Denzel asks quietly as he wipes some of the dust off the sidecar's leather seat.

"No. I think she'll be thankful for the space." I find the helmet amid some other miscellaneous stuff I have stashed away throughout the space and start trying to secure it on Junior's head.

Junior squirms and pushes at my wrists. "I don't like it. It smells funny."

I stop fighting him and let my arms fall to my sides. "If you want to ride, you have to wear the helmet."

"Why?" he asks, his brow wrinkling together.

"Because you might get hurt."

Junior mulls this over a moment, his eyes examining the helmet sternly. Eventually, he decides the pros of riding Fenrir outweigh the cons of the smelly helmet.

"Can I come?" Denzel asks as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

I put Junior into the sidecar and then motion for Denzel to hop onto the seat behind me.

* * *

We don't go far. We drive through the quieter parts of Edge, going offroad occasionally (something Junior finds hilarious). Then we go to the market and get some pre-dinner ice cream after I make them  _swear_ to keep it a secret and  _never_  breath a word of it to  _anyone_. Ever.

I ride around aimlessly until the sun starts to go down. I figure Marlene will have her dinner plans in place by now. Plus, I worry that Junior might be getting cold now that he is full of ice cream and the temperature is dropping.

If he gets sick, I'll  _never_  hear the end of it.

When we get back to Seventh Heaven, dinner ready as expected and Marlene is ready for round two of trying to get Junior to eat.

Junior bounces into the bar with Denzel and me. He has that cute walk that kids have when they aren't really toddlers anymore, but they aren't technically a child yet.

Apparently, Junior and I bonded on our ride because he sticks pretty close to me. He watches every move I make. It reminds me of how Denzel used to look at me. It's a mix between curiosity and admiration.

So I go with it.

"Tell me a funny story about Pa," he insists as we start eating breaded cutlets and leftover bean soup.

I have lots of stories about… _Pa_  but I'm not sure if any of them are age appropriate. It takes me a while to sift through my memories and come up with something I can actually tell.

"Once," I begin, "Tifa was blinded by a monster and Tifa hates Blindness. A lot. She would get scared."

"I wouldn't get scared. I just like being able to see," she argues as she stirs her soup with her spoon. Apparently, she doesn't have much of an appetite. I've learned morning sickness doesn't always happen in the mornings. Go figure.

I act like I didn't hear her. "So I tried to comfort her, but when I did, she thought I was another monster and she suckerpunched me in the nose."

Junior's eyes widen. It is apparently hard for him to imagine the sweet Tifa he knows punching anyone but he doesn't know the Tifa that I know. Tifa could be as cunning and ruthless as Rufus Shinra when she wanted to be.

Denzel laughs through a mouthful of food. "She actually  _hit_  you?!"

"Yeah. She was wearing gloves too." I take a sip of my water.

"I said I was sorry!" Tifa protests but I pick up on the quiver in her voice. She wants to laugh.

"My nose was broken and your dad thought this was _very_  funny." I continue. "He laughed and laughed until he almost swallowed his cigarette. So he's chocking. My nose is broken. Tifa is blind and everyone else is laughing at us."

"You left out the part where I fixed your nose afterward," Tifa adds.

"And Tifa fixed my nose," I parrot flatly.

"What was Sephiroth like?" he asks, apparently already having another question locked and loaded.

I'm kind of taken aback by the question and Tifa suddenly looks nauseous. Briefly, I wonder how much Cid has told him about our old foe.

"Cold. Detached. Arrogant." I rub at the back of my neck.

"Ruthless," Tifa adds, her eyes faraway. "Vengeful. Sadistic. Deluded but still smart."

"Was his sword really as long as they say? Did he really run you through with it? Pa says he really cut you up. Did it leave a scar? I wanna see!" Junior is practically crawling across the table towards me despite being trapped in a highchair.

"Yes. Twice. Yes. And I'm not showing you the scars."

Junior deflates. "Why not? Are they gross? Are you all mangled underneath?"

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. "Because I'd have to take my shirt off. I don't think so. And yes."

I never should have tried to bond with this kid. Once he starts talking, he doesn't stop. He's a never-ending chain of questions.

"Marlene?" Tifa dives in to save me. "Didn't you want to watch movie after dinner? Why don't you go get everything ready?"

"Okay!" Marlene jumps up from the table. "Come on, Junior. Let's go pick something out."

"Thank you," I mumble once the kids are out of the room.

Tifa grins and starts clearing the table. "You're welcome."

* * *

After cleaning the dishes and doing a few other chores, Tifa and I join the kids for the movie in Marlene's room (luckily, their makeshift movie theater is still present from her bout of Chocobo pox). However, Tifa doesn't last long. About halfway through the movie, Tifa falls asleep.

Tifa had thrown herself across the bed horizontally to use my stomach as a pillow. I'd started running my fingers through her hair and she was asleep within a matter of minutes.

Meanwhile, Junior had fallen asleep on the beanbag chair between Denzel and Marlene.

"You two stay with him." I lift Tifa up bridal style. "I'm taking her to bed."

Upon entering our room, I pull the covers back and place Tifa on the bed as gently as I can. I take off her shoes and I'm about to put the blankets over her when I see her stomach trying to peek out from under her shirt.

It's small but I think she is finally starting to show.

A part of me wants to touch the slight curve in her stomach but another part wants to keep all of this at arms length. I feel happiness but I also feel fear. I feel warmth and attachment but there is also apprehension. My emotions are at war with one another and I can't really figure out how I feel, so I end up covering Tifa with blankets and leaving the room.

On my way back to check on Marlene and Denzel, I hear the front door open.

"Cid and Shera are back," I declare as I enter the room and haul Junior out of the beanbag chair. He is limp and apparently, a heavy sleeper like is father. He is snoring a little bit but he is roughly three-years-old so it's still cute unlike Cid's snoring that kept me up many a night.

Denzel and Marlene follow me back into the bar where Cid and Shera are waiting.

Shera's eyes brighten at the sight of her son splayed across my shoulder.

"He fell asleep during the movie." Marlene giggles a little as she gently pats his back.

"Was he good?" Shera asks softly.

Cid pries Junior off my now slobbery shoulder and transfers him to his shoulder.

"He was really good. I think he had fun," Marlene replies, sounding very mature. "We played games. Had snacks. Cloud even took him for a ride on Fenrir before dinner!"

"Look at you bein' all thoughtful and considerate." Cid scoffs but actually seems kind of proud. "Where's Tifa?" He asks as he eyes the space.

"She fell asleep during the movie too." I shrug.

Cid laughs, making Junior bounce a little against his shoulder.

"Three kids too much for her?"

"Apparently."

"She'll have to get over that if you two ever decide to have another runt of your own." Cid snickers.

Marlene and Denzel exchange knowing glances and look at me expectantly, as if to say:  _Are you gonna tell them?!_

I chuckle nervously. "Yeah."

I'm not telling them we're pregnant. Not now and not alone. Once Tifa gives me the go ahead, we'll figure something out. Personally, I want to tell everyone collectively so I can just rip the proverbial bandage off. You know, take all my lashings at once.

"Don't pester him, Cid," Shera interjects. "We'll get out of your hair now. Thanks again so much for looking after him. Tell Tifa thanks for me?"

"Sure," I say.

"You're welcome! We'll tell Tifa!" Marlene adds, waving. "Be safe!"

"We'll be in touch," Cid opens the front door for Shera. "Don't be stranger."

"Mm."

I lock the door behind them once it shuts and I want to collapse into the nearest chair. I'm not even pregnant and I'm exhausted.

"It wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be," Denzel admits, a hint of a smile on his lips. He's been a really good sport through all this even though I know he didn't want to be here.

"Yeah, but it didn't really go like I hoped it would either," Marlene counters, looking a little disappointed.

"You did good," I insist as I start turning all the lights off. "Don't sweat the small stuff. We made it through without any casualties."

"Can I go to my room now?" Denzel grouses with a yawn.

"You're free to go. Don't stay up too late though. Lights out by 11," I reply but Denzel has already disappeared into the hallway. Honestly, I'm kind of surprised he lasted this long.

"Do you want me to help you pick up all the toys?" Marlene offers politely.

I look around at the wreckage scattered throughout the space. "Nah. We'll deal with it tomorrow."

Honestly, I don't have the strength to clean all this shit up. Besides, it can wait until morning.

"Okay." Marlene gives me a quick hug. "Goodnight, Cloud."

I smile and return her embrace. "Goodnight."

After making sure everything is off and all the doors are locked, I go back to my bedroom and collapse onto the bed next to Tifa.

Immediately, she sits upright, looking around frantic.

"Cid and Shera already came to get Junior," I reply before she asks the question I see floating around in her head.

She falls onto her back again. "I can't believe a fell asleep like that."

"Well, fatigue is one of the symptoms of your…ailment," I say with a yawn.

"Still! It couldn't have been later than 8!"

It wasn't but I don't rub it in.

Sighing, she rolls over to face me. "Thanks for taking over."

"No problem."

"Think we're ready for three kids?" she asks.

"As long as the third one isn't Junior Highwind…" I grumble as I kick my boots off my feet.

Tifa chuckles and puts a hand under her belly. "It won't be."

Apprehensively, I put my hand on top of hers. "Then I might be able to handle it."


	8. Tifa

After my first successful prenatal visit, we decide it's probably time to share the news with our friends. Since it is almost Marlene's birthday, we figure her party will be as good a time as any to tell everyone.

Marlene is officially at that age where she now wants two parties. One with our usual crew is no longer enough. Now she wants a separate party with friends her age too.

So we had a party/sleepover with her friends first the other day. The party started with both boys and girls in attendance, but only the girls stayed the night. The boys (including Denzel and Cloud) left once it got dark. Neither Cloud nor Denzel was prepared for a space full of girls even though I think Denzel kind of has a crush on one of them.

I think he likes the Moogle Girl from down the street, but he isn't sure if she likes him back, so he also kind of likes this other girl with pretty silver-blonde hair and blue-grey eyes.

Sometimes Denzel reminds me so much of Cloud it's ridiculous. They both have that aloof,  _I-don't-know-how-handsome-I-really-am_  vibe. He's too cute for his own good, and I don't know if I am anywhere near mentally or emotionally prepared to handle the pending relationship drama.

However, that is a matter for another day. Right now I need to get ready for the party Barret is throwing for Marlene at North Corel, which has become more difficult than I thought it would be initially. Nothing is fitting me like it should.

At roughly 12 weeks into this pregnancy, my clothes are getting annoyingly snug. I'm finally starting to show.  _Really_ show.

I stretch along my bed on my back and try to button my shorts (that I swear I could still wear just the other day). After wriggling around and stretching them as much as I can, I finally get them on. They are a little close fitting, but hey, they're on, so I'm chalking it up as a victory.

Now I just need a shirt that won't show the bump.

I dive back into the closet. I try on several blouses, but they either won't button or look funny once they are on.

Frustrated, I yank the latest top off and hurl it across the room.

I sit awkwardly on the side of the bed in an unflattering, black bra and the shorts that barely fit. I'm swollen, bloated, and pudgy all over.

As I glare holes at all the blouses on the floor that have betrayed me, Cloud enters the room.

Casually, he eyes the space. He looks at the floor and then glances at the closet, slowly digesting the scene in front of him, which consists of _countless_  articles of clothing I've banished across the room (some of my shirts are even on a lamp and our dresser, but I don't remember throwing them there).

"Did a Bomb go off in the closet?" he asks flatly as if he's simply asking me about the weather.

"I can't go to this party. None of my nicer clothes fit me." As I say this, I realize it is apparently time to go shopping for new clothes.

_Maternity world, here I come..._

"None of them?" he counters, his fair brow wrinkled. "There has to be something that still fits."

"Yeah, but they either look stupid or don't match these shorts!" I cry and kick another shirt across the room. I only regret that it isn't capable of feeling pain.

He blinks, unfazed.

Cloud looks at a loss but eventually says: "You're pregnant. Isn't this supposed to happen?"

"You know what, it's fine." I sniffle, but I still manage a surprising amount of sarcasm. "It's fine. I don't have to look nice. I'll just go and be pregnant and pudgy…and probably wearing sweatpants."

He sits next to me on the bed. He's calm as he puts a hand on the middle of my back. He isn't doing anything special, but I still start to relax.

"It'll be okay. You'll look fine in anything." He eyes my current attire…or the lack thereof. "You know, once you put on a shirt."

I scoff and slip off the bed, making a beeline for the bathroom.

"What?" he calls, sounding genuinely baffled. "What did I say?"

I don't answer. I just shut the door on him so he can have some time to figure it out.

* * *

The whole team is here. Everyone managed to make it this year. Reeve even brought the latest Cait Sith prototype, much to Cloud's dismay. Everyone else seems to enjoy his energy though, and as usual, the kids are having a blast with his fortunes.

The atmosphere is very similar to the energy you get when you'd go to Gold Saucer. The restaurant Barret has reserved for the occasion is full of arcade games, pool tables, a prize counter, and lots of old, homey tables scattered throughout the space where you can have a nice meal.

It – like many other places in North Corel – is new. The establishment hasn't been open long. It is a strange mix between what remains of Gold Saucer and the rustic, desert charm associated with Corel. It looks like a pub. It even kind of smells like one, but I don't see a bar. It is just a place where people could come, have fun, and enjoy food in a vibrant yet almost seedy environment. I've never really seen anything like it before, but Denzel and Marlene  _love_  it.

Barret and some of his pals from North Corel had even decorated a little before we got here. There are a few colorful balloons scattered around. They have a huge  _HAPPY BIRTHDAY_ banner that greets you upon arrival. There's a giant blue and yellow polkadot cake on one of the many tables. I brought vibrant silverware and even table clothes to cover the worn wood of the tables. It's not much, but Marlene seems elated when she saw everything, and that's all we could ask for.

Everyone is in good spirits. Even Vincent seems a little brighter than normal. It's been a while since we've all been together like this, and I think we are all genuinely enjoying each other's company.

Despite how much time has passed and how much seems to change, no one can take the bond we all share away. No one could ever understand just how much we went through together and how it forged and unlikely, unconventional relationship that will last forever. You can't go through what we went through together and not have some form of unbreakable bond. We're different, but we have a very firm understanding of one another.

Once we finish eating, Marlene begins opening her presents with Junior's help. He might actually think some of these are for him, but Marlene is a good sport and allows him to tear as much paper as he wants.

It always fascinates me what everyone gets her. Because of the diversity in our group, Marlene always gets a wide variety of presents. She gets clothes, accessories, books, gil, quirky stuffed animals, and even weaponry. As she shows me the gifts, I kind of what to keep some of them for myself.

Marlene thanks everyone for her presents before she heads off with Denzel, Junior, and Shelke to play some of the arcade games in the back. The latter I think only went to investigate the machines. I'm not really sure if Shelke actually wants to play with them (she's always been kind of drawn to the kids in her own way) or if she is merely curious about the technology. Shelke has grown a lot since the Deepground incident, but she still has a robot-like quality to her and approaches almost everything like an equation or problem to be solved.

The rest of us linger around the present-littered table, chatting quietly with each other.

As subtly as I can, I reach under the table and give Cloud's hand a squeeze. His eyes meet mine.

_It's now or never._

I pray he can read my thoughts. I hope he understands what I'm thinking without me actually having to say it.

To my relief, he blinks, and I know that he is giving me consent. He understands, but I can still see some of the apprehension in his eyes. There is also a little tension in his shoulders.

I'm nervous too. And dizzy, but that is mostly due to the whole  _being pregnant_  thing. I think.

Knowing I only have a few minutes before everyone scatters, I make my move.

Silently, I take out the ultrasound photo I got the other day and casually push it to the center of the table.

Reeve notices it first. He squints and tilts his head to the side, clearly unsure as to what it is. I think he is about to say something, but Yuffie leans across the table to get a better look, effectively blocking his line of sight. Then, it's like a domino effect. I watch as everyone's eyes go to the picture then back to us and then back to the picture again.

The silence that follows is painful. It is one of the longest silences I have experienced in a while.

My eyes jump around, trying to get everyone's reaction at once, but I'll be honest, I'm probably watching Barret the most. However, he looks confused and stunned. I don't think it's registered yet.

"Oh my god!" Yuffie squeals. "Oh. My.  _God_!"

"Well, I'll be goddamned." Cid chortles and picks up the image. "Who woulda thought Strife had it in him?"

"You're having a baby?!" Yuffie manages to lean even further along the table.

I chuckle and nod.

"Congratulations!" Shera beams as she pats the top of my hand affectionately.

"I knew it! I _knew_  something was wrong with you two!" Yuffie crawls across the table towards Cid and Barret. "I want handwritten apology letters from  _each_  of you!"

"How could you possibly know?" I argue, my brow wrinkling. I honestly thought we were being subtle.

"You two haven't been more than two feet apart this  _whole_  time. Cloud's been following you around like he is afraid you'll take a breath and he'll miss it. You two have been together for years now, but you've  _never_  sat that close to each other or for that long in front of us. You've been staring at each other and whispering and touching even when you don't have to. You don't always act like a couple, but today you  _acted_  like a  _couple_."

I'm blushing, and I feel Cloud shifting uncomfortably next to me.

Vincent is actually smiling down at the picture as Cid hands it to him so he can get a better look. Barret is still shocked. Reeve is patting Cloud heavily on the back, whispering something to him I can't discern.

"You're going to make wonderful parents," Nanaki declares proudly, and his words make my chest swell. I didn't realize how much I needed that kind of encouragement until he said it.

I get up and go to Barret's side. As soon as I get close enough, he hugs me. Hard.

He laughs. It's a deep and hearty. It vibrates against me. "I never thought I'd see the day."

Barret knows better than anyone how bad things were for a while. He was with us after Meteorfall. He was there when we were basically homeless, sleeping under plates in what was left of Midgar and trying to atone for all we'd done. He was there when we were building Seventh Heaven and trying to pick up the pieces. He drank with us. He yelled at us. He encouraged us. Even when he left for North Corel he called to check on us, something that sometimes resulted in Marlene telling him how Cloud and I were fighting. Still, even when he wasn't with us, he was with us. He knows better than anyone some of what we had to go through to get here.

I realize I'm crying, his hearty embrace squeezing the tears out of me.

As I pull away to wipe at my tears, Vincent hands me a handkerchief and Reeve offers another hug.

I laugh nervously.

"These are happy tears, right?" Reeve asks as he pats my shoulders.

Using Vincent's handkerchief, I nod. "Yes. They're happy tears."

"You son of a bitch!" Barret laughs again and squeezes Cloud. I've seen him hug Cloud before but never like this. Cloud looks uncomfortable at first but still grins and returns the gesture.

"You scared?" Barret asks but in a very knowing tone as he slaps Cloud (none too gently) on the back.

Cloud nods. "Terrified."

"It'll be fine." Barret grins so wide I think his cheeks might split. "You'll be fine. 'Cause if ya ain't, I'll kick yer ass."

Cloud nods again. He knows it's true.

"I wanna feel it!" Yuffie bounces towards me. "Can I feel it?"

"Sure." I try to lean back and extend my stomach. "There isn't much to feel yet though."

Yuffie doesn't care. She already has her hands all over my belly.

* * *

I'm glad we'd decided to wait until later in the party to share our news because news of our pregnancy has totally stolen Marlene's birthday thunder.

We have to answer all of the typical baby questions:

" _How far along are you?"_

" _Were you planning this?"_

" _What are you gonna do about the bar?"_

" _Are you going to move?"_

" _Do you want a boy or a girl?"_

" _Are Denzel and Marlene excited?"_

" _Do you want some of Junior's old things?"_

" _When's the due date?"_

It's a lot to process. Even though we haven't spoken directly to one another, I think Cloud and I can agree that we are overwhelmed. However, everyone is  _very_ supportive. They've offered to help out with Denzel and Marlene. They've offered to help with the bar. They've offered to help us find a new place to live if we decide we do want to move.

Still, it's a lot to take in, and it reminds me just how much we have to deal with. There is a lot we haven't discussed that we really need to discuss. We can't keep avoiding the difficult subjects…even though that is something Cloud and I have specialized in over the years.

The conversation dies down, and everyone kind of scatters throughout the restaurant. Cloud, Denzel, Cid, and Yuffie are playing a game of pool. Barret, Marlene, and Cait Sith are playing on one of the arcade machines. Shera, Reeve, Shelke, and Red XIII are having a quiet conversation nearby despite how Junior is trying to ride Red like a chocobo.

Vincent and I, however, linger at the table surrounded by opened presents and cake.

I've been kind of dizzy lately and headaches are still a rather persistent companion, so I'm pretty content just sitting here with Vincent and eating another piece of cake.

The quiet is nice, but I'm itching to ask Vincent a few things. I've actually had some questions for him for a while. I just never got around to asking him because a) I didn't want him to figure out I was pregnant and b) the subject matter isn't exactly pleasant for either of us.

"Can I ask you a difficult question?" My words are soft, as if using a gentle tone will make it easier for him to reply.

To my surprise, he nods.

"You were with Lucrecia when she was carrying Sephiroth, right?" I continue reluctantly.

Another nod. This one is a little slower, and his eyes are low.

"What was she like…during that time?" I pick at the cake on my plate, my appetite dissolving rapidly.

"Not much different from a normal pregnant woman, but she would have episodes of pain. She'd be unable to stand for a little while, and then it would pass like it'd never happened. Sometimes I think she saw things."

I swallow hard. "What kind of things…?"

Vincent takes in a deep, smooth breath. "She never told me, but whatever she saw troubled her."

Silence. I can't think of what to say.

"Tifa…" Vincent leans forward, his gaze intent. "Have you been experiencing anything?"

He's seen through me, but I'm really not that surprised. I figured he might.

I hesitate. "Just a little pain and some nightmares…"

Vincent blinks slowly, his expression unreadable, yet I can tell he wants to probe. He wants to ask about my nightmares. However, I am grateful for Vincent's stand on prying because he doesn't actually ask.

"Do you think it'll be normal?" I ask, fighting the urge to cradle my stomach. "Or do you think it will inherit traits from Cloud...and Jenova?"

"I'm not entirely sure," he replies, his tone even and calm. "The aspects of the Jenova Project I am familiar with were not conducted this way. The test subject was almost always the mother and said mother was usually already carrying the child once the experiments started. But the genes are capable of passing from one generation to another."

I don't ask about Project S or Project Sephiroth. I know that he was injected while in the fetal stage. That had nothing to do with genetics. Those methods were direct. Sephiroth was exposed to pure Jenova Cells undiluted by human DNA.

"So they  _are_  capable of being passed down?" I inquire despite my better judgment, but I feel like I need to know, and I know Vincent will be honest with me.

"There is no record of the abilities being passed on from a father. However, an altered mother is capable of passing on the abilities, genes, traits…or whatever you want to call it."

I'm very still and very quiet as I digest this. I don't know if I should feel better or worse.

"Cloud does hold the last known fragments of Jenova's cells," he continues, likely reading my bewildered expression. "They are a part of his DNA in one form or another. The question then becomes how diluted they have been by his own human DNA. He could even simply be carrying them like a parasite or a virus. But since we don't really know, we'd still have to assume that it is possible that they could be passed on."

I nod my understanding. "I figured. I just…wanted another opinion, you know?"

"It's hard to say, Tifa," he admits, shaking his head, his tone raw and sincere. "Your case is unprecedented. It has never happened before, so it is hard to say what the result might or might not be, but there is no reason for you to assume that the child you're carrying will be anything less than completely healthy and happy. I refuse to believe anything made of both you and Cloud could be anything other than kind and good."

That makes me smile. "Thank you, Vincent."

Little known fact about Vincent Valentine: he is surprisingly good at comforting others.

* * *


	9. Marlene

"Baby's change everything, man," Rick says as he eyes Denzel intently and leans against the nearest crate of goods.

After school, I tagged along with Denzel and some of the other former Triple S kids to their usual spot in the alleyway behind the Item Shop, a decision I am now starting to question.

I came not because I wanted to, but because I almost never see Denzel anymore, and I kind of want to keep on eye on him. He's been acting pretty weird since my birthday party in Corel, and I'm honestly not sure if him hanging out with his old gang all the time is helping things.

Rick and the others are nice enough, but some of them come from a rough background, a rougher one than Denzel, and they have different hobbies and interests. I'm pretty sure they skip class a lot, and I've heard rumors about some of the other questionable things they do. I don't know if any of it is true though. I'm also not sure if Denzel goes along with them or not, but it still kind of worries me.

Regardless, I've actually been enjoying myself. I asked Moogle Girl (Millie) to come too just in case. It never hurts to have a backup friend when going out of your comfort zone, and at first, I hadn't been sure of how they would react to me randomly coming with Denzel.

We got some meat skewers from Old Fitzgerald's food stand, and we've been having fun…until we stumbled upon the subject of our home life. Now things are kind of weird. Denzel is acting strange again.

"You can kinda manage with other biological kids if they're older and already established in the family but a baby? That's a whole other issue," Rick continues, chewing on one of the meat skewers.

Denzel – who is sitting on a wooden crate next to Millie and me – looks unfazed by Rick's words, but he isn't eating anymore and seems oddly contemplative. He's clearly thinking about what's being said, but it's hard to tell if he believes him or not. Rick is experienced with this kind of thing, and Denzel trusts him.

"They won't get rid of us," Denzel insists, his dark blue eyes kind of distant, but I'm relieved to hear him defend Cloud and Tifa. And he's right. They would never abandon us like that, not even if they had fifty kids of their own.

"I never said they would," Rick counters casually through a mouthful of meat before pointing what's left of the skewer at Denzel. "But even if they don't, things are still gonna change. It'll be hard to compete with that."

Another boy wearing a cap and baggy shorts (I don't know his name) decides to chime in too. "Blood is a powerful thing. Even the best foster parents cave under that kind of pressure. You can't fight biology."

"Not to mention how young they are," yet another boy adds, his hair straw blonde and scruffy. "Are they even in the thirties yet? People that young tend to change their minds about fostering and adoption. A lot of them just use it as a stepping stone and a way to get experience before they have their real family."

Clearly, a lot of the former Triple S kids haven't been as fortunate as Denzel. Sometimes I think he feels guilty about that. I think he worries that they resent him because he was taken into a stable home shortly after their group disbanded while the rest of them have been on the streets, pushed from family to family and place to place.

This also gives them some credibility. A lot of these kids have lived with lots of unconventional families. They have been in mixed homes. They have experienced this kind of thing firsthand.

They're wrong about Cloud and Tifa though. They don't know them like we do, but Denzel still has that weird look on his face…and judging by how he's been acting lately, this could easily be the source of his odd behavior. Maybe he's already been thinking about this?

"Some people might do that, but we don't have anything to worry about." I brush them off confidently. "Right, Denzel?"

"Right," he replies, but he doesn't sound very convinced.

We finish our food, and the conversations shifts from us to lighter topics like school, upcoming tests, and a boy who ripped his pants during lunch period.

We stay until it starts to get dark. Then I suggest we head back, and Denzel offers to walk Millie home, causing some of the gang to snicker and Denzel to blush faintly. He ignores the silent jabs and jeers though.

The sun has gone down, but the market is really starting to buzz. People are getting off work and lots of them are either buying food to take home, shopping, or going to some of the main restaurants nearby. Traffic has even picked up on the streets, making it even harder to navigate our way out of here.

_"Yo!"_

All three of us turn, unsure if the voice is addressing us but soon realizing that it is.

Two men in stiff suits are approaching us, and as they get closer, they become more familiar. One has fiery red hair in a long ponytail, and the other has a shaved head and is wearing sunglasses despite how it's late out. I think their names are Reno and Rude? I'm not entirely sure, but I'm almost positive they used to work for Shinra. They've dropped by the bar a time or two over the years.

"You're Cloud Strife's kids, right?" the one with red hair asks, breathless, and I notice that he looks a bit disheveled. There is some kind of sauce on the corner of his mouth, leading me to believe that they probably abandoned their dinner at a nearby restaurant to chase after us.

Denzel and I exchange glances before he steps forward, forming a sort of barrier between the suits and Millie and me. He doesn't answer them though. He just continues to size them up.

They eye Denzel a moment before smirking, something almost playful taking over their demeanor. These guys are…different, but they aren't that threatening. I'd almost call them quirky.

"Definitely Cloud's kid," murmurs the bald man with sunglasses as he puts away the napkin he still had tucked in his stiff collar.

Denzel folds his arms and cocks his head to the side. "Who wants to know?"

Reno shrugs. "Just some old friends. We've been tryin' to get in touch with him, but he keeps dodgin' our calls."

Denzel snickers a little. "If he's dodging your calls, then he doesn't want to talk to you."

"Ya know," counters Reno, the tattoos under his eyes wrinkling as he puts a hand on his hip, "you should be nicer to us. We helped save you guys a few years ago."

Rude nods his head in firm agreement.

"Thanks…?" Denzel drawls.

"Goddamn," Rude groans and throws his head back dramatically. "You're about as fun to communicate with as Cloud is." His bright, green eyes shift and pin me down. "You seem more reasonable than  _Cloud Junior_  here. Will you tell Cloud that Reno and Rude wanna chat?"

"Can I ask why?" I'm suddenly a little apprehensive. What if this is about the baby? Could they know? And if these men were with Shinra, it would make sense for them to have interest in a child that's technically a secondhand byproduct of some of their… _research._ Right?

Reno grins widely as if he senses my nerves. "Nothin' to be worried about, kid. We've just got some new projects in the works, and we wanna run a few things by him."

"Sure." I blink. "I'll, uh, let him know."

Denzel grabs the curve of my elbow and tugs gently. "C'mon. Let's go, Marlene."

"Oh, and tell Tifa that we said  _hi_!" Reno is waving enthusiastically, but Rude stiffens and looks away nervously as they slowly fade out of view.

"What was that all about?" Millie asks quietly even though we are out of earshot and weaving through the kiosks and tables that litter the market.

"Nothin' good if Cloud is avoidin' them," Denzel replies without lessening his heated pace. "Didn't they used to be Turks?"

"Yeah." I look down at the pavement and play with the edges of my braid. "But they did try to help out when Sephiroth came back."

"I don't know…" Denzel scratches the back of his head. "They're both pretty weird."

"I think they're mostly harmless…" I pause. "But…do you think they know about the baby?"

Denzel stops dead in his tracks. "I didn't even think about that, but I hope not."

Cloud and Tifa have always been pretty honest about their past with us. They don't offer a lot of information, but anytime we ask, they are always upfront about it all. And I can't shake the tingle of old memories or keep from thinking about all the things everyone (especially Papa) has always said about Shinra.

I know it's technically gone, but the shadow lingers. People who worked there are still alive, and you still hear horror stories about the things they did. Every now and then you'll even see stories and articles about it. They are constantly unearthing new controversies, and the company isn't even in operation anymore. Not to mention all the experiments that they left behind.

Needless to say, I can't help but be a little nervous about talking with former Shinra employees about Cloud. You have to wonder about their motives, especially if Cloud is indeed avoiding them.

The rest of the walk home is pretty quiet. Millie tries to spark up conversation a few times but to no avail. Denzel and I have suddenly turned into Cloud, uttering little more than one word responses.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow," Millie says as she rushes to her front door.

"Bye!" I wave.

"See ya." Denzel watches attentively until the door shuts behind her before turning around and heading back towards Seventh Heaven.

The street lights are on by the time we get home. It's pretty late. We are pushing the limits, so I hope we don't get in trouble. Denzel doesn't pay much attention to our curfew anymore, but I'm not trying to get in hot water with Tifa, especially  _pregnant_ Tifa.

When we get closer to the front steps, I see our cat – Whiskey – waiting on me.

He's named after the spilled whiskey he lapped up off the floor shortly after we brought him home. I found him one day when Cloud and I went to the church to tend to Aerith's flowers. The cat was outside in the rubble, and I was taken with him instantly. Sure, he's missing half an ear and somehow manages to have a stripped _and_  speckled coat. It was like someone had sewn several different cats together and made this one. Cloud still isn't convinced it isn't a hodgepodge of some sort from the Shinra labs.

For a long time, Cloud tried to get him a home with someone else, but no one wanted him. We got stuck with him, but he kind of comes and goes as he pleases. He became a neighborhood cat of sorts even though he still comes to sleep with me most nights. Tifa leaves a back window cracked open for a few hours at night in case he wants to come and visit. However, she always puts him out first thing in the morning.

Meowing roughly, he helps close the gap between us, and I haul him into my arms. I sit on the front steps, put him into my lap, and start stroking his fur. He starts purring instantly.

Denzel sits down next to me and folds his arms across his raised knees. We sit in silence (aside from Whiskey's purring and the sound of bugs popping against the light overhead) for a while, but we are both thinking pretty loudly. I think we are subconsciously avoiding going inside too.

Tifa is still having problems sleeping, and Cloud is stressed out as a result. So things have been a little tense. I mean…things aren't terrible. They aren't fighting or anything, and things have certainly been much worse, but like Denzel, something has become kind of off about them too. The usual warmth in our home has somewhat faded even though a baby is on the way. It isn't your typical scenario, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised that the typical joy that accompanies a pregnancy isn't always here.

Sure, there are moments of blinding happiness when we are all giddy with excitement, but lately you can also feel the anxiety and tension radiating off Cloud and Tifa. We've been experiencing more of the latter lately. I'm not entirely sure why. It could be any number of things, and there is a lot that goes on between Cloud and Tifa that we don't even know about.

"I wonder when we'll move," Denzel muses, his somber eyes not leaving the street.

"I don't know…" I murmur.

At my birthday party, we overheard Tifa and some of the others talking about looking for another place to live before the baby comes. I don't know what Cloud and Tifa are planning on doing though. They haven't really talked about it with us yet, which may mean they haven't really given it much thought either.

But Denzel and I aren't really crazy about leaving our home. We have history here. This was where we became a family. It feels wrong to leave it behind. I can't even really imagine being anywhere else. I know. I've tried.

"Depending on where we end up, we might have to change schools," Denzel adds casually, but I pick up on the displeasure in his tone. "We won't be able to see our friends everyday anymore."

"I hadn't really thought about that…" I admit with a frown because it's true. I haven't really thought about what moving would mean. I actually don't like thinking about it at all. It…stings.

"Maybe we'll stay close." He shrugs. Once again, he doesn't sound confident or convinced.

"Hey." I stop picking at Whiskey's fur and look over at Denzel, trying to make eye contact. "You didn't take any of what Rick and the others said back there to heart, did you?"

"I don't know…" He throws a small rock across the street. "They made some pretty good points, and things have changed a lot already."

"Well, yeah." I laugh a little. "Everyone knows that babies change things. That's kind of what they do."

"Yeah, but _this_  baby means Cloud and Tifa will finally be a  _real_  family once it gets here. It's their flesh and blood. Tifa is gonna carry it, and it will be with them from the first moment it takes a breath."

The words  _real family_  make me recoil a bit. I guess, technically, he isn't wrong...but I still don't believe anything Rick and the others said.

I stare at him. "So…?"

He sighs and slouches forward again. "So… I don't know. It just got me thinking."

"Sure, it'll be different from us, but Cloud and Tifa will love us like they always have," I argue and start picking at Whiskey's matted fur again.

He shakes his head. "I knew you wouldn't understand."

I frown. "Then explain."

"It's…different for you." He looks away, almost hiding his face in the curve of his elbow. "You have Barret to fall back on no matter what happens…but me? I'll go somewhere else, probably into foster care."

I glare at him, hurt and insulted that he would even  _consider_  this. "They would  _never_  do that."

Denzel nods slowly. "You're probably right. But with everything that's going on, I can't help but wonder sometimes."

The silence that follows is no longer pleasant. It is strained and kind of awkward. I feel sad, not because I am worried about our future like he is, but because I feel us growing apart. He's…changing and so is our relationship and not just because of the baby that's on the way. I'm scared I'm losing him, that he's outgrowing me. We aren't as close as we used to be. He has other interests now, and we don't have as much in common anymore...

"I got a note today," Denzel breaks the tight silence first, reaching into his bag and pulling out a small envelope.

"Are you in trouble?" I gape at the piece of paper.

He shrugs and sinks further onto the step next to me. "I guess. They're requesting a parent-teacher…thing."

"What did you do?" I ask even though I know he might not like me asking.

"I don't know. I haven't read it…but I might've skipped class a few times…and my grades might be slipping a little…."

I know he's been acting differently lately, but I didn't think it had been bad enough to warrant a meeting with a teacher. I guess my gut feeling was right.

The sound of Fenrir approaching effectively neutralizes our conversation. Denzel is suddenly sheepish, knowing he'll have to hand over this letter soon. Likely deciding that Tifa is the lesser of the evils for the time being, he rises to his feet and heads inside.

* * *

Over dinner, we tell Cloud and Tifa about our encounter with Reno and Rude downtown. Cloud doesn't seem surprised, but he also looks kind of irritated.

Tifa gives Cloud a hard look, her brow furrowed. "What do you think they want?"

Cloud sighs and leans back into his chair. "Whatever it is, I'm not interested."

He appears to be done with the subject, but Tifa is clearly still mulling it over. However, I can't tell if she is concerned or curious. Maybe both?

"Shouldn't you at least call them to see what they're up to?" she replies, subtly trying to make a suggestion without actually making a suggestion.

He stands and takes our dishes to the sink. "I'll think about it."

That was likely Cloud code for:  _I'm probably just gonna avoid it until it becomes unavoidable._

"How long have they been calling you, Cloud?" Tifa's demeanor is shifting. Depending on his answer, she could get upset. Her mood suddenly seems volatile.

Cloud doesn't answer for a long time. There is a significant pause where he just puts his hands on the counter and stares into the sink.

"Not long." He slowly picks up a plate.

"Has Reeve said anything to you?" Tifa's features harden. "Isn't Rufus all into helping the WRO now?"

Denzel and I glance at each other briefly before our eyes continue to dart between Cloud and Tifa.

"Last I heard," Cloud replies flatly, avoiding eye contact with anyone. "And no. Reeve hasn't contacted me about them."

Tifa sighs, obviously unhappy with the responses, but she doesn't push further despite how she might want to. She knows his limits.

Still, Cloud doesn't seem worried about it and that instantly makes me feel a little better about the whole thing. After all, he knows them a lot better than I do.

Yawning, Tifa stands and heads out of the bar. Cloud eyes her carefully, like she could fall over at any moment, but she doesn't acknowledge him or his intent stare.

"Are you upset?" he asks her, his voice low, but we still hear him.

"No, Cloud," Tifa replies, sounding weary and a little exasperated as she passes him. "I'm not upset."

I lean towards Denzel and whisper: "Aren't you gonna give them your note?"

He scans the room to make sure they aren't paying attention to us. "I think the whole Rude and Reno thing is enough for now. Besides, neither of them are in the best mood."

"You're avoiding the inevitable…"

"Maybe." He rises to his feet, smirking. "But I'm gonna avoid it as long as I can!"


	10. Tifa

I'm late. Already. So this is off to a _great_  start.

Why did I volunteer to do this again? Probably because I don't really have a choice... Cloud had a delivery in Mideel early this morning and  _someone_ has to be there.

I didn't sleep much last night, which resulted in me oversleeping this morning. Then, once I got up, I couldn't find anything to wear. What do you even wear to a parent-teacher conference? Can you be too professional? Can you be too casual?

It would be hard to figure out what to wear normally, much less while pregnant.

"I look like I'm going to a funeral…" I declare as I stare at the black dress in the mirror's reflection. I'm also starting to actually look pregnant. I'm at that point where weight gain is necessary, even though I don't think I'm gaining as much as I should.

"I think you look nice," Marlene replies from her cross-legged position across my bed.

"How should I wear my hair?" I ask as I twist my hair up onto my head and continue to inspect myself.

"Down."

"Are you sure?" I frown. "It isn't too casual? I still look like a responsible adult…and parent?"

Marlene nods as she eyes me carefully. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so."

I sigh and let my hair fall. "It'll have to do. I don't have time to fix it."

It's Barret's weekend with the kids, and I already hear his monstrous van pulling up outside.

"Denzel!" I shout as I rush out of the room with Marlene on my heels. "We're leaving!"

He slowly comes into the hallway to meet us, his shoulders sagging and his posture meek. He's been pretty humble since he silently handed that note to Cloud and me, and even humbler still since Cloud gave him a rather firm (yet reasonable) talking to about what caused this note to be sent to us.

"Are you packed?" I ask and look for his bags. One is on the floor and the other is hanging from his droopy shoulder.

"Yeah," Denzel replies lowly, acting as if he is going to the guillotine instead of with Barret, which does nothing to make me feel better. Is he that nervous about what his teacher is going to say? He still hasn't really told us why his teacher wants to talk to us.

"And take your homework with you." This is my subtle way of telling him he isn't allowed to have fun on this trip. He's still on probation until we get to the bottom of this. Once we get back, we'll decide his sentence.

"Okay…" His eyes are low, but he nods obediently.

Marlene hugs me. "We'll call once we get there."

"Thank you." I love how I don't even have to give Marlene instruction anymore. She already knows what I expect.

Marlene heads out the door to meet Barret. Denzel, however, is reluctant. He lingers in the doorway and stares at me.

He practically transforms back into the boy with Geostigma Cloud brought home years ago. He no longer looks like a lanky preteen. He looks like a child who got scolded and wants forgiveness and approval.

Denzel's expression is apologetic and beseeching, maybe even a little afraid. For a moment, I think he might even hug me.

I offer a smile even though I still kind of want to be stern with him, but I can't bring myself to be too cruel. He's still my boy, and I know he is a good kid no matter what his teacher says or might say.

"Are you gonna tell Barret?" he asks in a small voice, his eyes darting towards the road.

I shake my head. "I see no reason to. This is between us."

He looks grateful. He still looks nervous too though.

I fold my arms over my chest. "Anything you wanna tell me before I go?"

His blue eyes shift down and away as he mulls it over. This tells me that he is indeed keeping certain details to himself. However, Cloud and I agreed to not push him. We'll find out one way or another.

"…No."

"Okay. We'll deal with it when you get back then." I shut the door behind us, and Denzel grimaces. Not because of the sharp sound the door makes either.

* * *

The school is eerily quiet, aside from the sound of my shoes clicking on the blinding tile. All the students are gone. I saw a janitor and a few teachers wandering around, but little else.

The room where the conference is supposed to take place is empty too. Neither Cloud nor the teacher are here, so I double-check the letter to make sure I'm in the right place, and I'm pretty sure I am.

Seconds later, a stiff skirt walks into the room. Her salt and pepper hair is in a partial bun, and her narrow nose is so high in the air I think she might drown if it were to rain.

"Mrs. Strife?" Her head cocks to the side in inquiry.

"Yes." I take a small step forward.

She extends her hand towards me. "Thank you so much for coming. I apologize for my tardiness. I'm Mrs. Khrome."

I do my best to give a sturdy handshake. "It's nice to meet you."

"Is it just going to be us, or will Mr. Strife be joining us?" she inquires, her tight mouth contorting into a tiny smile.

"Um…" I rub my shoulder "He had some business to attend to this morning, so he might be a little late, but he's going to try to make it. We can go ahead and start though."

She leans against the front of her desk and motions for me to sit in one of the student desks. "In that case, I'll just get right to the point."

I sit down slowly, and I suddenly feel even younger than I am. I can't remember the last time I was in a classroom or even in a desk like this.

"Denzel's recent behavior concerns me. His grades are declining, he has started skipping classes, and has shown that he has a bit of temper as well," she explains matter-of-factly, each word stiff and cold, telling me that she's probably had this conversation several times before with multiple parents and guardians.

I nod even though I wasn't aware things had gotten this bad. He's been fine at home, and Marlene hasn't said anything… This note was the first indication that anything was wrong.

Guilt starts to pile up in the pit of my stomach, making it hard to sit still.

"Were you aware of this?" Her thin brow wrinkles with scrutiny.

I feel like this is a trick question. I'm pretty sure how I answer this will set some kind of momentum for the rest of this conference. But, ultimately, I decide to go with honesty.

"No. Not really." I shift in my seat. "I mean, he's been a little quieter lately, but I didn't give it much thought given his age."

"I see…" Her expression softens a little, but her eyes remain hard. "Have there been any changes at home? Anything that might be causing Denzel to act out? I've heard that you're expecting."

I suck in a silent breath and hold it tightly in my lungs, my shoulders tensing.

"A biological child can be hard on adoptive children." Her eyes go to my belly then back to my face. "I overheard Denzel and some of his friends talking about your pregnancy. I believe there is some concern there. And a lot of problems that surface at school are usually rooted at home. Denzel may be fearing replacement."

_I've already thought of that…_

"Have you spoken with him about the pregnancy and your plans for the future once the baby comes?" she continues, her fingers drumming along the under the edge of her desk. "Communication can be critical in these types of situations."

"We've talked about it a little. Probably not as much as we should…" I admit. However, I refrain from admitting how Cloud and I haven't really made too many plans regarding the baby and our future. We are still feeling our way through the dark…but I don't want her to know that.

"I understand. This is a big change. It is a lot to confront, especially at your age, not to mention the fact that you have two preteens already."

Something has shifted in Khrome's demeanor. She is suddenly much more approachable and understanding, almost like an aunt, a nosey aunt but an aunt nonetheless. It now feels like she is trying to comfort me and give me some advice. I think she truly wants to help.

"Does Denzel have any other living relatives?" she asks, choosing her words carefully.

My eyes shoot up to meet hers. "Not that I'm aware of…"

"It might we worth looking into. I think we can both agree that he needs a stable home—"

"Yes, and he has one." I can't dull the sharpness in my tone.

"You and your husband are both very young with two teenagers and a baby on the way," she says as if I didn't already know this. "That would be a lot for  _anyone_  to take on… During this time, it might be wise to seek out help. Not just for Denzel but for you as well."

The amiable nature between us dissolves rapidly. I now feel talked down to and defensive. She thinks we can't properly take care of Denzel. Yes. We are really young to have a pre-teen, but we are what is best for Denzel. I know it. I've known it since Cloud brought him into the bar unconscious and covered with Geostigma. He belongs with us.

"Denzel is just…" I struggle for the right words. "He's been through a lot for someone his age. He's going to struggle with certain aspects of life. He probably isn't going to be your definition of normal regardless of where he is."

"Perhaps-" her head bobs in acknowledgement "-but that doesn't mean that somewhere else might be better for him."

I want to scream at this woman, maybe even punch her right in her long, narrow nose. No one understands Denzel like we do. He's  _ours._  He completed our family. He brought us back together. We wouldn't be where we are now if it weren't' for him. He was Aeirth's gift to us because she knew how badly we needed him in our fractured lives…

"All I'm asking is that you think about it. Try to access your limits and think about what is truly best for Denzel, as hard as it may be." Her words are kind, and I can tell that she is sincere, but this still feels like acid on an open wound.

"I'd also like you to consider where his temper is coming from and what is causing these violent tendencies." Her words are laced thick with implication. She's referencing our past, which explains further why she thinks we might not be able to properly care for Denzel.

"It's been a long time since Denzel has gotten into a fight," I argue curtly. I can barely hide my irritation anymore. I think I've reached the point of no return.

"Yes, but he does have a history of fighting, and lately, he has been more argumentative with fellow students." She pauses, and I can tell what's coming next will not be pretty. "The people of Edge owe you and Mr. Strife a lot, but you two do have a past. Violence isn't exactly foreign to you."

I blink. I can't really think of a response right away. These situations are hard to navigate. There are those who are grateful for the role we played in saving the Planet, while others see us as vigilantes or terrorists. Not everyone sees us as heroes. In fact, some people like to keep their distance from us, as if we are still infected with an extremely contagious strand of Geostigma.

"We never brought that lifestyle home," I finally say as I lean forward in my desk. "We don't encourage that kind of behavior. We haven't hidden who we are from them, but we aren't going around bragging or telling them to take up martial arts."

"…Your husband is Mako-enchanced, is he not?" she counters, her eyes are cold again, and I can tell she's already cast some pretty harsh judgments on us because of our past and who we are. Denzel acting out has only fanned those flames.

"Yes, and I know what your thinking…but no. That doesn't make him temperamental or hotheaded."

I want to argue that Cloud is sometimes the more reasonable of the two of us. I want to say how gentle and kind he is. I want to tell her that not that long ago he was a broken shell of a person who could barely function. Cloud Strife had incredible strength, but he never abused it. The temper he had when we were kids got stomped out by years of death and experiments. He was a man of few words, and he never wasted his energy on things like yelling or flying off the handle.

"Right." She nods and puts some of her stray hairs behind her small ears. "Of course not. But I'm sure you understand why I had to ask?"

As if on cue, Cloud enters the room, looking more disheveled than I care for considering how this conversation is going. This woman has already pegged us as inept children with a history of violence who have decided to procreate despite all the obvious reasons not to.

Cloud's sunglasses are still on top of his head, and he appears dusty (a result of speeding on Fenrir to get here). Sand from the wasteland cling to his dark clothes and dust his fair features. Apparently, there wasn't time to change clothes or check a mirror. I can't keep from cringing inwardly at the sight of him. I want to hide my face or maybe even crawl under the table.

Khrome pries herself off her messy desk and approaches him. I note she doesn't seem quite as confident approaching him. His eyes are glowing with adrenaline, which can be pretty intimidating to anyone who isn't familiar with SOLDIER members or those who have been Mako-enchanced in one form or another.

It's moments like this where you can tell that Cloud is human, but you can also tell he isn't quite like the rest of us.

"You must be Mr. Strife." She extends a hand towards him, causing Cloud to pause and look down at his gloved hand briefly before finally deciding to shake her hand regardless of his garb. "I'm Mrs. Khrome. I'm glad you could join us. Please take a seat."

For the first time, Cloud's eyes find mine, and I am almost positive his expression mirrors my own. We are both apprehensive and unsure. We are completely out of our element. We can take down a Behemoth and help save the Planet more than once, but a parent-teacher conference? That is where we fall short.

Cloud walks to the desk next to mine, leans against the front of it, and folds his arms across his chest.

The silence in the room is unbearable, and I feel pretty nauseous. This whole conversation has made me sick…and not just because I'm pregnant.

"I was just saying that I would recommend talking to Denzel about your pregnancy and your plans for the future. He needs to feel secure, and I think communication will be key. I believe that once he feels secure again, we will see a dramatic change in his behavior. And…if he doesn't…I'd like you to again at least consider what I said about other relatives and alternative caregivers, for Denzel's sake."

"How would taking him away from the home he's known for years make him feel secure?" I shake my head in disbelief, but Cloud simply eyes the floor between Khrome and us pensively.

"In the long run, it could be. I'm simply saying that, given your situation, there may be an environment somewhere else that is better equipped to handle Denzel's specific needs. Not only that, but it might be better for both of you as well. Take some time to reflect on what is truly best for everyone. There is no shame in knowing your limits."

"We'll talk to him. It won't have to come to that," Cloud says definitively, effectively neutralizing the conversation.

Khrome smiles knowingly as if she was simply testing us this whole time.

"That's good to hear." She turns and grabs a few folders off her desk. "Please feel free to contact me if you need anything. I'll be happy to help out in any way that I can. And congratulations on your pregnancy." Her eyes narrow and crinkle up around the edges as she grins at us.

"Thank you." I give her a small smile of my own, but I doubt it reaches my eyes.

Mrs. Khrome nods and strolls into the hallway, leaving us alone in the painfully empty room.

We don't speak. We don't even look at each other. We kind of just…sit there…processing everything.

"Are you hungry?" Cloud finally asks, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

Actually, I am. All the prior nausea has finally started to ebb, so my appetite has been trying to return.

"Yeah."

"C'mon. Let's go grab something to eat." He leads the way out of the classroom, and I follow without question.

* * *

We end up at one of our favorite restaurants downtown. We ordered some sushi, but we are playing with our food more than we are eating it.

"She basically called us bad parents…" I grumble as I stab one of my sushi rolls with my chopsticks. "And that we aren't capable of taking proper care of him…"

"She didn't use those exact words," Cloud counters flatly.

"No, but she didn't have to. It was obvious." Out of habit I reach for the nearby sample of saké given to us upon arrival only to remember that I can't drink it. I exhale loudly, slamming the glass back onto the counter. "And I can't drink..."

"I think she was mainly trying to make a point. Granted, she kind of went about it the wrong way." He shrugs a shoulder. "Say what you want, it was pretty effective."

Yeah. I'll give Khrome that much. It was definitely effective, upsetting but effective. Maybe too effective…

Within a millisecond, I go from angry to devastated.

I start thinking about all the points she made and how she might be right. I think about all that we haven't talked about that we  _need_  to talk about. I think about everything that has to be done before the baby gets here. I think about Seventh Heaven and how I won't be able to serve like I normally do much longer since I'm starting to show. I think about how we need to start looking into new living arrangements. I think about what Reno, Rude, and Rufus might be wanting from Cloud. Finally, I think about how we are supposed to communicate all this to Denzel and Marlene when we can't figure it out ourselves.

Regardless of  _why_ she said the things she did, she still hit some pretty soft spots in our foundation.

"Maybe…" I begin again after a few moments of silence. "Maybe she's right. Maybe we can't handle all this…"

"Probably not." Cloud shrugs and brings his water to his lips. "But we'll fight our way through it like we always have."

His words are pessimistic yet oddly uplifting. It actually makes me feel a little better…but…

"We need to talk about moving. Then we need to look for a new place to live or maybe floor plans for a new house... We need to see if Yuffie can help out at the bar and maybe even hire some staff...if we can afford it. Someone needs to see what Rufus Shinra wants. Not to mention all the baby stuff we're going to need." I count all these things on my fingers and my voice breaks. "And we haven't even talked about names yet…"

The blank expression on his face tells me that this is all still surreal to him. He's overwhelmed to the point of inaction.

I sigh. "Talk to me. Don't shut down."

He scratches his head. "…I don't really know what you want me to say..."

It may be the fact that my mood is volatile already, but this rubs me the wrong way.

The reasonable part of me says to be patient and sit here with him and chip away at him until we make progress, but the immature, hormonal part of me wants to forget it and storm off.

I slouch into my seat. "Let's just figure out what to do about Denzel first."

We are doing it again, avoiding the inevitable, and putting it off until it becomes unavoidable. But I resolve to confront our current situation as we've confronted everything else in our lives, one baby step at a time. It may not be the best alternative, but it's how we function.

Cloud nods. "I guess the usual punishments apply?"

"Yeah," I agree. "He won't like it, but he'll have to come home right after school until we get all this under control."

He nods again. "When they get back, I'll have a talk with him about…everything, see where his head is. …And I'll start looking into new…living arrangements too."

I smile a little. "Thank you."

I wish we could stay at Seventh Heaven, and if we had a choice, we probably would. But we don't really have a choice, and since we don't have a choice, I'm proud of Cloud for doing his part. He's forcing himself forward and fighting his powerful instinct to not rock the boat.

The rest of our dinner isn't nearly as strained or as awkward. Don't get me wrong, we are both still pretty rattled and overwhelmed by everything, but it doesn't seem quite as insurmountable.

"Can we get dessert?" I ask as I start eyeing the chocolate dessert the table next to us just got.

Cloud follows my gaze and smirks. "Sure."

* * *

After we get home and tackle our usual chores, Cloud tries to usher me to bed, much to my displeasure.

Sleep (and the lack thereof) has become increasingly unpleasant lately. I don't do much sleeping anymore. I usually toss and turn and wake Cloud, who then tries anything and everything to ease me back to sleep. It has been an ordeal for both of us. And if I'm honest, I'm afraid of what I might dream once I do fall asleep. My nightmares have been pretty persistent.

I stare at the bed then glance back at Cloud. "We need to—"

Cloud shakes his head. "It can wait. We have all weekend. We'll talk about everything tomorrow, I promise."

"Promise?" I reiterate because if I know Cloud, tomorrow could turn into next week or even next month.

"Promise." He seems sincere. His expression is also uncompromising. I can tell this is a battle I won't win. He won't be happy until I'm in bed.

I shower, change clothes, brush my teeth and try to prepare for the ordeal sleep has become.

Lying down, I realize how tired I am. Hopefully this means I can get a deep sleep where I won't dream or wake up.

Rolling onto my back, I lift my shirt a little and start rubbing my stomach, which is kind of sore. I guess the baby is making more room and stretching stuff around.

I feel Cloud's eyes on me and his weight on the bed next to me. He's doing that thing he does where I can tell that he can't decide if he wants to touch my belly or keep everything at arms length. I can see his confliction.

He inches closer. "When will you be able to feel it move?"

"Hmm…" I continue to massage the achy muscles. "I think it depends, but it will be a few more weeks at least. You can still feel though…if you want…" I offer hesitantly. I don't want to pressure him, but I also want him to know that he doesn't have to be reluctant.

Cloud gets even closer until I can smell the faint aroma of menthol lingering on his skin. His hand hovers over my stomach, as if he hasn't ever felt before. He used to touch it often during the night when we slept, but since the curve in my stomach has gotten bigger, he's gotten a little more cautious.

Slowly, his hand meets my stomach and molds around it carefully. Taking the initiative, I put one hand on top of his and wrap the other around his wrist and apply a little pressure so he'll know neither of us will break.

I watch his face intently, smiling as he prods around and inspects the life growing in me. I rub his hand and caress his forearm as he moves. I relish the very feel of him, from the fair hair on his arm to the bulging veins throbbing underneath.

His lips twitch, and his eyes brighten slightly. It's very subtle, but I see it.

I didn't think it was possible for me to love Cloud Strife more than I already did, but I do. This pregnancy has added another level of intimacy that I didn't think was possible.

"I love you," I say matter-of-factly. I hadn't made a conscious decision to say this. My thoughts were just so loud I was unable to hold them in.

Cloud looks a little surprised at first, but a crooked smile gradually takes over his face. Leaving one hand on my stomach, he reaches out with the other to gingerly brush some of my hair away from my face.

I close my eyes and lean into his touch.

"I love you," he parrots.

Cloud lies down next to me, our hands still resting lightly on my stomach as he gently conforms around me.

We both know I probably won't stay asleep for long…but this is still really nice.


	11. Denzel

"A fight, huh?"

I don't say anything. I figure I'm doomed no matter what I say.

Cloud isn't looking at me anyway. He is underneath Fenrir, focused on changing the oil.

My hands are still dirty and my knuckles hurt, but I can't say that I regret what I did.

Okay…I'll admit that getting into a fight right after the parent-teacher conference wasn't my finest moment... Still, if I had it all to do over again, I'd do no differently.

"You wanna explain or do you want do just take the punishment?" he continues casually.

It's moment like these when I kind of like Cloud's unconventional parenting methods.

"Depends," I mumble, looking down at my damaged knuckles from my seat on the workbench on the other side of the garage. "Will explaining change the punishment?"

"Maybe." Cloud tosses the wrench into the nearby toolbox. The loud noise causes me to jump. "This about the Moogle Girl?"

I grimace. "Millie…"

Cloud and Tifa  _still_ call her the Moogle Girl after all this time. They know her name, but they – like so many others –  _still_  refer to her as the  _Moogle Girl_.

"He was being a jerk," I snap, still kind of angry. "The kid deserved it. He was making fun of her doll."

I can still see his dopey face – wide-set, green eyes, gaping sneer, and practically nonexistent nose. He looked just like a Hedgehog Pie. His face even went pinkish-purple like them right before I tackled him into a garbage can.

Cloud sits up, folding his arms over his raised knees and looking off into the distance as he nods.

"Yeah, she is probably too old to be carrying a doll around – even if it is just in her backpack—but that kid knows  _nothing_  about what she's been through." My hands tighten into fists despite the pain lingering in them.

"She's the one whose brother died of Geostigma in the alley, right?" He glances back at me. There is empathy dully glowing in his eyes.

"Yeah. The doll was her brother's." My eyes fall.

"By any chance was this the same reason you got into that other nasty fight a few years ago?"

A blush creeps up the back of my neck. "…Yeah."

Cloud picks up his toolbox and puts it on the workbench next to me.

"I know you have good intentions but try to remember that fighting isn't always the answer."

We've had this talk before – more times than I could possibly count.

"Can I go now?" I shift uncomfortably.

Cloud puts his hands on the bench and holds his head down. I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. During the silence, I decide to try to make a break for it, but I don't get far.

"Hold up." He grabs me by the neck of my shirt and gently tugs me back. "We need to talk."

_I don't want to talk…_

"We've been talking…" I counter dryly as I ease back onto the workbench.

"…Then…we probably need to talk some more."

He says this, but he doesn't sound very sure. This is one of those moments when I think he's just saying what he  _thinks_  he should say instead of what he actually  _wants_  to say.

Funny… I can still remember when Cloud would look through us instead of at us when we'd talk to him. On really bad days, getting his attention was all but impossible. I never would have dreamed Cloud would be trying to coerce  _me_  into talking more. That was always Tifa's job.

Things haven't changed that much though. I can tell this is still a struggle for Cloud. He is doing what he thinks is right despite how much he doesn't want to, and I can tell that he doesn't want to. He is just clumsily forcing himself through it.

"What do you want to talk about?" I ask apprehensively when Cloud's silence becomes too much for me.

He shrugs. "You used to talk to me all the time. We didn't necessarily need a reason."

He's not wrong…

"I guess that's the problem though. Now there are things to actually talk about…" he muses, casting his gaze toward the ceiling.

"Not really."

Cloud scoffs. "Don't lie. There is plenty to talk about. Just say that there is nothing you  _want_  to talk about."

"Okay," I concede easily. "There is nothing I want to talk about."

"Fair enough." Cloud relents, stands, and moves to leave.

"What? That's it?" I reel. Cloud's unconventional parenting still blows my mind. I've been with them years now, and I still never know what to expect from him. Tifa is usually more traditional. I can peg her pretty easily but Cloud? Never.

Cloud stops at the door. "Yeah. I'm not gonna make you talk about something you aren't comfortable talking about."

It isn't until he says this that I realize that I  _do_ actually kind of want to talk about it.

"How's Tifa today…?" I ask, and just like that, Cloud is back sitting next to me on top of the workbench.

"Fine, I guess. There's a doctor's appointment coming up soon. I might try to go…" He picks at callous on his hand.

"You nervous?" My heel taps at the leg of the workbench.

"Terrified."

Funny thing about Cloud: he's not really afraid to tell me he's scared.

"I used to think that you and Marlene were given to us for a reason, because I couldn't handle a baby. I guess I always saw it as the Planet's way of giving us kids without breaking us. You know, cutting me a break because of…how I am. Tifa helped with Marlene when she was really little but not a newborn…and I wasn't even around when Marlene was a baby."

I nod slowly, not really knowing what to say.

"I just keep thinking about all the ways I can screw up, not just with the new baby but with you and Marlene too."

My brow wrinkles together. I'm still a bit taken back by his transparency. Apparently, he wanted to talk about this too.

He sighs heavily and runs a hand down his face. "You know we would never give you up, right?"

The blatancy of this question causes me to jolt. I hadn't been expecting it at all. I mean, after the parent-teacher conference, I was expecting  _something_  like this - dreading it actually - but I hadn't been expecting him to be so blunt.

"We might have to move. We might get a new house. We might have to divide up our time differently once the baby is here, but we would never abandon you." He smirks a little and puts a heavy hand on my shoulder. "We're a family nothing is ever gonna change that."

Tension I didn't even know I had starts chipping off my shoulders.

He didn't say anything groundbreaking. In fact, it is basically what Marlene has been telling me, but it's different coming from him. I think… I think I just needed to hear him say it. I needed the confirmation, the reassurance.

"And I'm sorry we haven't really done a good job of talking to you about all this. We're still trying to figure it out ourselves," he continues. "We're gonna try to do better from now on though, so you aren't as in the dark about what's going on."

"So…we are gonna move?" I ask apprehensively, I don't really want to know the answer though, so I'm not entirely sure why I asked. The thought of leaving this place, all these memories, and all our friends behind hurts. A lot. I don't want to start all over...

Cloud leans back and folds his arms over his chest. "Probably but you two will have a say in where we move."

"Does this mean we get to go house shopping with you?" The prospect of this is actually pretty exciting. It would be pretty cool to pick out a bigger house. There is a certain rush that comes with newer, better things. Maybe we could actually get a place with a backyard.

"Sure." He wipes some of the grease on his hands onto his white t-shirt. "But you're still grounded. Indefinitely."

" _Indefinitely_?!" I howl, my eyes and mouth agape.

Cloud bobs his head towards the direction of the bar. "We're still negotiating your sentence."

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I bite down the urge to shout that this is unfair. The grades and the skipping class stuff is totally on me, but I feel like the fight shouldn't count given the circumstances.

" _Cloud!"_

It has been a long time since I've seen Cloud move this fast. He leaps off the workbench and blazes into the bar towards the sound of Marlene's scream.

I get up too, but there is no way that I could ever catch up with him.

The first thing I notice is blood. It's on Tifa's hands, her shirt – not to mention all the bloody tissues on the countertops.

My heart drops, and I think Cloud's does to. He stops abruptly, taking the scene in and likely shattering inside.

It's been a long time since I've seen Cloud short-circuit like this. His eyes are wild, but it is like he's left his body and gone somewhere else. There is this disconnect between his mind and his body.

Despite the blood, Tifa takes his face in her hands and starts whispering to him. She knows that look too, and she is probably as thrilled to see it as I am...

"It's just a nose bleed. It's okay," she coos, running her thumbs along his cheekbones but Cloud only blinks. "It's just a nosebleed. It's okay. Everything's okay."

For a moment, I wonder if Cloud even hears her. It seems to be going over his head. His eyes are distant. He's somehow looking through her and at her at the same time.

The first thing he is capable of doing is hauling her into a hug, but it is obvious the hug is for him and not her. It is for his peace of mind. He's the one that needs the comfort.

I'm positive that he thought – as I had – that something had happened to her and the baby. Still, it is unusual to see them openly affectionate like this. I can count on one hand the times I've seen them participate in any kind of public display of affection.

Soon, Cloud is pulling away to inspect her, brushing her hair away from her bloody face and staring down at her intently.

It's moments like this when I realize that Cloud would have to go first. I honestly don't think Cloud could be without her now. Hell, I don't know if he could handle losing anyone else. Something like that would probably break him for good, which is probably why the prospect of this baby is so terrifying to him. It is another person to care for, to depend on him. It is another life, something precious that could eventually be taken away from him.

"I'm so sorry!" Marlene squeaks, holding her hands over her mouth. "I saw the blood, and I panicked."

"It's okay…" Cloud says, but his voice has that listless tone to it as he goes to the counter and grabs a towel for Tifa.

Tifa swats at Cloud as he tries to angle her head back and apply the cloth to her nose. Lately, Cloud seems hell bent on caring for her but the more he tries, the more Tifa seems to resist.

This time Cloud wins though. Tifa stops fighting and lets him wipe the blood from her mouth and chin as if she is incapable of doing so herself.

"Is this…normal?" he asks reluctantly.

"Yes. Nosebleeds are sometimes a side effect of being pregnant." Tifa sits on the nearby couch, holding her head back and pinching the bridge of her nose.

As she reclines, I notice the slight bulge in her lower stomach that causes her shirt to wrinkle up over her belly. She's still pretty small but she's actually starting to look pregnant, which is still very surreal to me.

I mean, I know it's happening, but my mind can't really wrap around the fact that it is a  _person_  in there, and it will eventually come out with the ability to move, see, and cry.

My eyes find her face as hers find mine.

"You should put ice on your lip, your hands, and the cut under your eye." She rises to her feet. "I think I have some antibiotic ointment in our bathroom too…"

Cloud shifts in front of her and gestures for her to sit back down. "I'll get it."

Again, Tifa clearly thinks he is overreacting but also lacks the energy to argue. However, I think I did hear her mumble:  _"It's just a nosebleed…"_

"Get him some antiseptic too!" Tifa calls as he vanishes down the hallway. It's funny that in spite of still obviously being upset with me about the fight, she's still more concerned about my wellbeing than her own.

"I don't think you're supposed to talk while having a nosebleed," Marlene interjects gently and hands Tifa a clean towel for her nose.

Tifa makes a face but accepts that she apparently can't do  _anything_  and lies down on her back, holding her head back and keeping the towel pressed to her nose.

When Cloud returns, he puts the medicine on the table for me. I sit and start cleaning the cuts on my knuckles as Marlene takes it upon herself to help me with the wounds on my face that I can't see.

Once I am clean and sterilized, I cast my attention back to the couch to see that Tifa has fallen asleep.

Cloud crosses the space, checks her nose, (which has stopped bleeding), and lifts her into his arms bridal style.

"I'm gonna take her back to bed." He casts me a sideways glance. "You start on your homework."

I reel. "It's only 5!"

As soon as the words leave my mouth, Cloud looks back at me as if to say, ' _Do you want to try that again?'_ And I don't, so I grab my bag…begrudgingly. Who knows? Maybe if I get my grades back up, maybe I can get a reduced sentence. I doubt it though. Tifa was pretty upset when I came in all scuffed up from fighting...again.

Marlene - being the good sport that she is - gets her backpack too and spills it's guts onto the table. I seriously doubt she'll be monitored like me though. Based on previous discussions, I suspect that Cloud and Tifa will be doing some strict handholding in terms of schoolwork – at least until they see some improvement.

"Think we can go to the church tomorrow after school?" Marlene inquires and takes a seat next to me.

"Can't." I tap my pencil against my workbook. "I'm grounded."

Marlene doesn't seem surprised at all to learn that I am grounded. "For how long?"

I shrug. "Indefinitely until they can reach an agreement."

"Think they'll make an exception? You know, since it's just the church?"

"I'm not sure. I don't really want to push it. Tifa was pretty pissed…"

There is also the fact that Tifa and Cloud have been kind of… _weird_ about that particular subject lately. No one has gone to Aerith's church in Midgar for a while, and no one has even mentioned it since we found out Tifa was pregnant, which I doubt is a coincidence.

There is a lot that goes on between Cloud and Tifa that I don't know about. There are things in their past I'll  _never_  know about. But I  _do_  know about Aerith Gainsborough even though I never met her, and I know that is and will probably always be a sore, sticky subject.

"I'm gonna ask." She tosses her braid over her shoulder and starts digging through her book. "I need to check on the flowers."

Cloud reenters the bar, covered in Fenrir's grease and a few specks of Tifa's blood. He goes into the kitchen, tosses the bloody tissues away, and starts digging in the cabinets.

I guess Cloud will be making dinner for us tonight so Tifa can rest.

"Is she still not sleeping much?" I ask as he continues throwing random ingredients and foods onto the counter.

He shakes his head, and I notice that he looks tired too. There are some subtle dark circles under his otherwise bright eyes. When Tifa doesn't sleep, Cloud doesn't sleep.

"Do you need help with dinner?" Marlene asks politely, peeking at him from over her book.

"Uh…" He runs a hand through his hair and stares at the food as if it is supposed to magically fuse together into a seamless meal. "No. I, um, think I've got it. Just…do your assignment…"

Marlene watches him a second longer, gauging – as Tifa often does – if he means what he says or if he actually needs assistance.

We go back to our work as Cloud continues to toy around in the kitchen. After a while, a nice aroma begins to fill the space. He actually isn't a terrible cook. His stuff is pretty good. It is just hard competing with Tifa's cooking. Everything is worse in comparison.

"Can we go to the church this week?" Marlene asks as she shuts her book and shoves it back into her bag.

Cloud's expression is unreadable. He runs a hand down his face and doesn't answer for a long time.

"…Yeah. We'll try to," he says reluctantly.

I can tell that Marlene wants to press the subject a bit more but ultimately drops it. The mood is unsalvageable though. She struck a nerve – a pretty big one too by the look of it.

"Can I go?" I am pretty sure I already know the answer, but hey, a guy can ask. No harm in pushing the limits.

"No." Cloud smirks as he tastes the stew he's pieced together. "Nice try though."

"What if I'm _really_  nice to Tifa?" I drawl, leaning forward.

He shrugs a shoulder, still grinning. "A little bribery never hurts."

I silently resolve to do as many chores as I can while she is still asleep…but I'm not holding my breath.


	12. Cloud

Fun fact: I – Cloud Strife – am a horrible bartender.

Since Tifa will not be able to bartend much longer, I've been trying to learn so that I can help pick up some of the slack. However, it is not going well.

Tifa and Yuffie try to teach me basics, the drinks that most of our regulars order. I have trouble remembering the mixtures though, and even when I do remember, they don't taste right. Apparently, I've underestimated the complexity of bartending all these years.

"Why does it taste like burnt hair?!" Yuffie cries as she runs to the sink and spits what remains of the drink out of her mouth.

I take a small sip. "It's not that bad…"

_I mean, it's not great, but it's not_  that _bad._

I'm almost positive Yuffie is overreacting because of how I use to criticize her drinks when she was still learning. She's been waiting for this moment.

Tifa simply smells my creation since she can't try it. "It doesn't smell bad…"

"She's lying!" Yuffie shouts, her head still buried in the sink. "She's just being nice because she is carrying your baby!"

Tifa looks up at me sympathetically, but she is obviously biased.

"You might as well shut down now," Yuffie declares before proceeding to gargle water loudly. "No one is gonna buy that garbage."

I fold my arms and lean against the counter. "Maybe we should just consider being a restaurant for a while…"

I say this but then I think about how much gil we get out of drink sales. Then I remember the night Barret, Tifa, and I decided to recreate this bar. After Meteorfall, under a crumbling plate in the slums of Midgar, we drank Corel Alcohol together and enjoyed ourselves for the first time in a long time. We laughed – mostly at Barret – and wanted to give those kinds of moments to other people. So it feels wrong to abandon the premise that brought us here…

"You'll get the hang of it. And until you do, Yuffie can help us handle the drinks," Tifa insists as I add yet another quick note to the cheat sheet I am storing in the bar for future reference.

This kind of thing has been going on a lot lately. Everyone has been trying to master most of Tifa's jobs. We've been trying to become more efficient and trying to make our roles around our home more…interchangeable.

Some things come more easily than others. Still, all things considered, I think we are making some decent progress. We aren't quite as reliant on Tifa as we were before we all learned about the pregnancy. We still have a long way to go though before we are ready for the baby and maternity leave.

Tifa walks across the bar and grabs my jacket that she's been wearing lately. "Think you can hold down the fort while I head out for a bit to take care of a few things?"

"Yea," I say, partly because it has been a particularly slow afternoon and partly because I want to prove myself. I think this would be a good way to kind of test the waters and see where I stand in terms of progress.

"Yuffie, would you mind staying and giving Cloud a few more pointers?" Tifa asks, slipping her arms into the oversized jacket.

"No. I'm good. I'll stay here. You two go ahead." I motion for Yuffie to go with Tifa, hoping she'll take the hint that I would prefer she go with Tifa than stay here and pester me about my lack of bartending skills.

Tifa's eyes dart between Yuffie, the bar, and me. "Are you sure?"

I nod. The bar won't be open too much longer, so I figure there is a smaller window of opportunity for me to screw things up. It can't be too bad, right?

"Alright. We won't be gone long." She gives me a small smile and opens the door. "Call if you need us."

"Don't poison anyone!" Yuffie shouts as she shuts the door loudly.

I cringe, but I don't think the handful of customers lingering on the other side of the bar heard her.

* * *

After Yuffie and Tifa leave, I fair pretty well. Not many people come in and those that do only want food, which I can do rather easily since we still don't go too crazy with special dishes. I get a few requests for drinks, but I manage to avoid mixing anything complicated by pacifying them with a discount on the juices Marlene has picked out and on Corel Alcohol.

I actually feel kind of good about myself as well as my capabilities until a familiar pair comes through the door.

" _Hey buddy!"_

It takes a lot for me to not roll my eyes. I know if I do, I'll roll them so hard I'll pull a muscle.

Tossing the washcloth I was using to wipe off tables over my shoulder, I start putting the used glasses and dirty dishes into the sink, blatantly ignoring my visitors. However, they aren't ignoring me.

"What do you want?" I ask, realizing they are just going to stare at me awkwardly until I say something.

Rude and Reno exchange curious glances before they approach the bar.

"We can start with a drink." Reno looks around. "Where's the Missus?"

"Out."

He is obviously disappointed, but he recovers quickly. "The kids?"

"School."

"Speaking of kids, word on the street is you're gonna be a daddy…again!" Reno simpers as he and Rude casually slip onto the barstools in front of me.

_I guess this means word has officially gotten out..._

"Congratulations," Rude adds flatly.

Again, I say nothing. I just nod…kind of.

"So can we get a drink or not?" Reno shifts impatiently on the barstool, his long, spindly fingers tapping on the bar's surface.

I've already had enough of this. "No. We're about to close. Say what you came to say and get out."

Reno reels, stopping his fidgeting instantly as Rude clears his throat down into his hand uncomfortably.

"Well, it isn't so much what I want to… _say_ …"

I blink.

"So Rufus has been funding research on Jenova cells…" Reno says rapidly, as if getting it out quicker will somehow change the content and my reaction.

"Not interested." I head for the door. I've already heard all I need to hear. "Get out."

"No! Wait!" Reno holds up his hands like he's afraid I'm going to hit him. He probably should be. "Just listen. It's not what you think. We're trying to find a way to use them to help people. You know, like fighting diseases and other ailments."

I take a moment to try to absorb this. Rufus is clearly trying to yield some good out of a bad situation, but it is hard for me to think  _anything_  good could come of Jenova research of any kind.

Apparently, Rufus is trying  _really_  hard to repay his debt to the Planet. He's been quiet after Sephiroth and the remnants were taken care of, funding programs and doing research quietly under random aliases, but he obviously still feels it is his reasonability to set things right.

I understand wanting atonement. Tifa and I have fought those particular demons for years. It is something we will have to live with for the rest of our lives in one form or another…but he is Rufus Shinra, and Reno and Rude are still…well, Reno and Rude. I think there will always be some part of them that is a little too connected to Shinra. I also think there is some part of them - no matter how small – that will always want to rebuild some aspect their fallen empire.

"So you want me to be a pincushion?" I drawl.

"Just a blood sample." Reno pinches his willowy fingers together. "A little blood for the greater good."

I stare at a random smudge spot I missed on the counter. "…The greater good…"

A lot of horrible things have been done in the name of the  _greater good_. A prime example being how we were sucking life from the Planet for our own selfish needs. I'm sure someone probably argued all of that was for the greater good as well.

I also find myself thinking about what happened the last time Rufus started screwing around with Jenova. Not long after, Kadaj and his gang were here.

"You don't have to make a decision now," Rude interjects gently, adjusting the cuffs on his suit.

"Right. Just…" Reno places a hand on my shoulder. "Just think about it, okay?"

I sigh again. I don't think there is much to think about, but I remain silent to pacify them.

Reno lifts his hand off my shoulder and takes an almost apprehensive step back.

"There was another matter we wanted to discuss with you…"

I am already not a fan of where this is going. There's something unsettling about his tone.

"We wanted to ask about Tifa." Rude just comes out with it. He suddenly seems much bolder.

_Of course..._

"By  _we_ , do you actually mean Rufus?" I challenge.

They are silent, but their silence says a lot.

"What about her?" My brow wrinkles as my hand instinctively twitches for my sword, some innate part of me always ready to jump into action and defend what I care about.

"Lots of doctors and scientists think there's a connection between the decrease in birthrate and Geostigma. Anyone who had it – particularly females – has reported some…after effects."

"Miscarriages." I fold my arms and look down towards my feet. "Yeah. I've heard."

"Not just miscarriages – there have been reports of birth defects, extreme postpartum, strange behaviors, abnormalities," Reno adds, holding up a finger for every symptom he can name off.

I can't keep from thinking about all the children - including Denzel - with Geostigma Kadaj had taken to the Forgotten City, their eyes distant and lifeless… Do the kids Reno is talking about have dead, slited eyes like that?

"Tifa never contracted Geostima," I clarify matter-of-factly.

"No, but because of all the issues occurring in both the mother and child as a result of contact with Jenova cells, it would be wise to exercise caution even though your situation isn't quite the same," Rude suggests, but his tone isn't that comforting.

"I'm aware," I declare without hesitation, only slightly insulted that they think I haven't already contemplated all of this (and more) on replay in my head since Tifa told me she was pregnant.

"How's she been?" Reno sounds genuinely interested and concerned.

"Fine." I almost go into more detail. I almost elaborate, but it feels…wrong. Our relationship is strange. I almost trust them but then, something always stops me. Besides, talking about this with them… I just can't do it. It's too intimate to share.

"Anything out of the ordinary?" Rude's sleek head cocks to the side a bit.

I shake my head. "Not particularly."

"This kid…" Reno says slowly, almost sheepish. " _Your_ kid… I mean…not to say that you're not human or anything, but you have to have thought about—"

"Reno…" Rude chides under his breath.

"I mean…you go the cells two different ways. You had to have thought about it. Not only did Professor Hojo try to turn you into a Sephiroth clone, you had Geostigma too," Reno continues thoughtlessly.

"Thanks for the reminder. I always seem to forget about those significant aspects of my life." I practically drip scorn as I brush past them and head for the door, hoping they'll follow my lead and do the same.

"Hey, I'm just saying." Reno throws his hands up into a shrug. "Jenova was capable of some pretty crazy shit."

I absolutely love how Reno is telling me all this like I don't know this better than anyone. I'm very aware of the kind of things Jenova and Sephiroth have been capable of. Their will alone caused Geostigma and led to Sephiroth's eventual resurrection, so yes. The prospect of what they could do from the Lifestream – if some part of them is still there – is unsettling, which is why I choose not to think about it too much. I'll go crazy if I do.

"And what if some part of Jenova  _does_  somehow make its way into our baby?" I counter, turning slowly and daring to make eye contact with them again. My intention wasn't to make a threat, but it suddenly feels like one. "You want to make my kid a guinea pig too?"

"We just want to help," Rude insists folding his hands in front of him.

Oddly enough, I believe that. I think they care. I think they do want to help. I think they're trying to make a difference and do the right thing. I'm just not sure how capable they are of actually doing those things or what their other motives are. Hell, I don't think even I know what the right thing to do is. How do we make the best out of a horrible situation of our own making? Do you leave it behind completely or do you stay behind and try to fix it?

We all just kind of stand there awkwardly. No one really knows what to say.

With impeccably poor timing, Tifa and Yuffie return. I can't stop the cold exasperation that comes off me in waves at the sight of them. I'd hoped against hope I could get the former Turks out of here before they got back.

"Yo!" Reno calls as they enter.

"Yo!" Yuffie throws back, almost mocking him. Reno starts to catch on too, his green eyes wrinkling up around their angular edges, but Tifa interrupts before he can call her on it.

"Hi, Reno. Rude." Tifa greets them with a small smile as she puts some of her haul from the market onto the nearest counter.

"Reno and Rude were just leaving," I say rather forcefully as I fold my arms and give them a stern look, dropping another rather hefty hint.

Reno holds up his hands as if surrendering and Rude merely adjusts his sunglasses.

"What brings you two here?" Tifa asks, much to my dismay.

"Doing Rufus' dirty work?" Yuffie taunts as she hops onto the countertop and starts banging her heels against the cabinets underneath.

Rude adjusts his glasses. "Actually-"

"Yeah, I didn't really want an answer." She stretches, looking bored. "It was a rhetorical question."

"We're here on _official_  business," Reno argues, his pride obviously suffering at the hands of the  _Single White Rose of Wutai_.

Yuffie smirks. "Oh, I'm _sure_  you are." Her tone is that of a mother insisting that her son will eventually be able to use the big boy potty.

Meanwhile, Tifa seems a bit cautious. She's keeping her distance, maybe even trying to hide her small baby belly. It's very subtle, but I see her arms shifting in front of her stomach and disappearing a bit into my jacket.

Rude casts his attention back to me. "We'll be in touch."

I offer something between a grunt and a scoff.

"Congratulations," Reno calls as he and Rude head for the door, their eyes lingering on Tifa a bit too long for my liking. It could just be my imagination but it is almost like they are expecting her to look different or expect something to come busting out of her.

Tifa's lips curl up a little. "Thank you."

Reno turns just as he steps out the door. "Oh, and one more thin-"

I slam the door on him.

"Oh, yeah,  _real_ mature!" comes his muffled cry from behind the door.

I flip the closed sign over across his face.

As I slowly turn to rejoin Tifa and Yuffie, I rub at the tension that has gathered all along the back of my neck.

"Cloud…" Tifa's voice is timid and so are her eyes. "What do they want?"

I stare at her a moment. I consider telling her everything, but then I wonder if I really should. In the end, all I mumble is: "Later."

Luckily, Tifa accepts my answer. Not that she has much choice. Yuffie is all over the place and her energy explodes further once the customers leave and kids come home.

* * *

Despite my reservations, I resolve to be a man of my word and fill Tifa in on the whole Rufus situation. So once everything calms down and we get a moment alone together, I give her my choppy, concise play-by-play of the whole encounter.

As we sit on the front steps of Seventh Heaven together, she doesn't say much. Still in my jacket, she wraps her arms around herself as if she is cold and stares out at the occasional vehicle that buzzes by on the dimly lit street.

"I mean… It's not the  _worst_ idea I've ever heard. I get it. It would be nice if they could give other people things like your amazing immune system without consequences," she finally says. "I just don't know if they'd actually be able to do that... Regardless, I agree with you. I doubt anything good will come from any kind of Jenova research, even if it is secondhand or if the motives are well intentioned. It's probably best not to get involved."

I nod.

Tifa looks at me over her shoulder. "Did they say anything about the baby?"

This is the part of the conversation I was hoping to avoid. I don't want her to worry – Holy knows I do enough of that for both of us. She has enough to deal with as it is. I didn't want to add to it, but now that she's asked, I feel inclined to answer.

"They didn't say anything we hadn't already thought of ourselves." I frown at my own vagueness. "Frankly, it's none of their business."

For a long, strained moment, she just sits there. She seems to be deep in thought. She stares out at the sunset-stained street some more and chews on the inside of her cheek.

She opens her mouth to say something, but before she can get it out, the kids start calling for her.

" _Tifa!"_ comes Denzel's voice.  _"Where's the tub of ice cream Yuffie was talking about?"_

Tifa exhales and glances over at me. "I'll be right back."

With Tifa gone, I feel an old, familiar darkness creeping up my spine. It feels like the taste of the past lingering on the back of my tongue. I can taste Mako. I can hear Hojo. And despite only having spoken to me directly once, I swear I could almost hear Jenova.

I bury my face in my hands, feeling nauseous. All the uneasiness and doubts come slipping back into my mind. All the doubts Tifa and the others had helped dissolve come back with a vengeance.

Something about Rude and Reno coming here, something about hearing these things from someone else, something about them knowing and their interest in our situation… All the risks and possibilities seem more real to me now, and in turn, making this pregnancy and all that comes along with it more real. And not just for the baby, but for Tifa too.

I don't know how long I sit here like this, letting my mind unravel like a giant knot of perturbation and poorly repressed unease. My only indication is footsteps and Yuffie taking Tifa's place on the step beside me. Loudly.

"Hey." Yuffie leans forward to catch my gaze. "What's your deal? You got that constipated look that means you're thinking too much."

I run my hands through my hair. "We just have a lot going on."

It's not a lie, but it's not really the truth either. However, I've hit my word count for the day. I don't feel like elaborating all of my concerns to Yuffie.

"Have you planned your babymoon yet?" she asks after giving the door a quick glance to make sure Tifa isn't coming back yet.

"The hell's a babymoon…?" I mumble, my brow practically fusing together.

"I knew you wouldn't have a clue!"

I rub at my temple. "Should I?"

"Yes!" She throws her hands up. "Tifa deserves a good babymoon. I think she's a lot more stressed than she lets on. She was pretty snappy at the market earlier – well, snappier than normal – and you should've seen the way everyone was looking and pointing at her downtown! I was two seconds away from giving someone a ninja star to the kidney. Not to mention all your typical pain-in-the-assness adding t—"

"But what's a babymoon?" I reiterate since she didn't answer me the first time. "Like a honeymoon?"

"Yeah, but before the baby gets here and before she gets too pregnant to enjoy herself." Yuffie pats her own flat belly for emphasis. "You need to go during her second trimester."

I'm probably drooling like a numbskull, but I swear it's almost like she is speaking another language to me.

Over this day and all the talking I've had to do, I simply get up and say: "I'll add it to my to-do list."

* * *

Following dinner, I lack the energy and motivation to fake conversation and genuine interest. My head is heavy. I almost feel drunk, so I head up to my room and lie down across our bed without saying another word to anyone. I decide to just do my routes in the morning since I need this day to end so I can hopefully restart newer and better tomorrow. I'll just apologize to everyone for my behavior tomorrow.

Halfway asleep, I hear the door open and gentle footsteps along the floorboards. They are Tifa's. I'd know them anywhere.

She taps at the bottom of my boots that are still hanging off the edge of the bed. "Roll over."

Tifa doesn't have to ask twice. I do as I'm told, throwing my arm over my eyes once I'm on my back.

She begins the process of yanking my boots off my feet and tossing them into the corner with my other discarded accessories.

Patting my stomach she says, "Sit up."

Again, I do so, albeit lazily.

Tifa unzips my jacket and then slips my undershirt off my head. Instinctively, I try to smooth my disheveled hair down to now avail.

"Don't we have this backwards?" My eyes flow up her waist to her face. "Shouldn't I be doing this for you?"

"Probably." She sits on the bed next to me and folds her legs underneath her. "But you looked like you needed it more than me."

I don't argue. I just lay my head in her lap and close my eyes.

"Everything's okay," she hums, her soft fingers gliding through my hair along my burning scalp. "We're okay."

My eyes open and flicker up to her face, watching her look down at me with a gaze full of deep affection that I don't deserve at all but have somehow earned nonetheless.

Her hands flatten against each side of my face as her forehead comes down to meet my own.

Instinctively, I reach up until my hand goes through her dark, silky hair to the back of her head, keeping her close in case she decides to back away before I'm ready.

She kisses my lips, my cheeks, and finally my forehead before pulling away to continue massaging my scalp and running her hands through my hair.

My eyes close again. The swarm in me ebbs and the voices quiet to a very dull murmur. For now, there is no more Jenova, no more Hojo, or even Rufus – just Tifa telling me yet again that everything is okay. The only problem is that now, I don't know who she is trying to convince more: her or me?


	13. Tifa

Cloud is completely out of his element, but he insisted that he wanted to come. He might be regretting it now that he is actually here though. Given his background, Cloud isn't the most comfortable with healthcare. Places like this are something he tries to avoid, so I'm proud of him for simply making the effort.

He sticks out like a sore thumb in this blinding room of creamy white in his black attire. His posture is terrible, his arms folded over his chest and one of his legs jerking. His eyes are shifty too. They dance around the room, going from the beige, checkered carpet, to the oversized clock on the colorless walls, to the receptionist desk on the other side of the space. He hasn't spoken since we checked in and sat down.

I'm actually pretty nervous too. Every time I come to this white building bustling with people, I think about all the questions they asked me during my first real prenatal visit, rethinking all of my answers in my head…

**Do you drink?**

_No._

**Do you smoke?**

_No._

**Did you contract Geostigma?**

_No._

**Did anyone in your family contract Geostigma?**

_Kind of..._

**Have you used Materia?**

_Yes._

**If yes, when was the last time you used Materia?**

_Geez. I can't remember. Years now…_

**Have you had any exposure to Mako?**

_Probably._

**Were any of your family members in SOLDIER?**

_Does your significant other count?_

I'd been expecting a lot of questions for my first prenatal visit, but it was worse than I thought. They were much more in depth and complicated than what I'd been told to expect.

Every time I think about these questions, I feel guilty. I start feeling like all of my life decisions have basically stacked the odds against my unborn child. They never said anything about my answers, so I assume that they weren't too concerned with them. That, or they are just waiting to see if it will actually be an issue before they bring up the damage I've done…

Subconsciously, I rub at the bump in my belly. I place one hand on top of my stomach and the other underneath until it feels as if I'm cradling it.

I might be more nervous than Cloud. I'm pretty sure there could be more tests during this visit, tests that may be able to tell us how big of an impact our past will have on the baby's future.

Cloud – who had been slouching in his chair staring off at nothing and looking generally unhappy – notices me practically cradling my stomach, but he doesn't get the chance to comment.

" _Strife?"_ the young receptionist asks politely as her eyes wander around the waiting room.

"C'mon." I pat Cloud on the leg and wink. "Let's mosey."

* * *

The nurse practitioner is nice. She is warm and bubbly with a good bedside manner. She is short and kind of round, with stubby, fire-red hair. I like her, but Cloud is showing her some of his trademark indifference. I think her white coat is probably off-putting for him. White coats are a little too close to Shinra labs, Hojo, experiments, and Mako-poisoning.

She has all my paperwork on her clipboard that she is eyeing carefully as she sits on a small stool at my side opposite Cloud. I feel nervous as she reads it. I know she might be judging us just like Denzel's teacher did. She has probably noticed Cloud's eyes by now too if she hasn't reread what I included about him in my paperwork already.

"Okay!" She beams as she puts the clipboard down on the desk behind her. "How have you been feeling?"

I notice how Cloud perks up at this question. His posture straightens. He goes from slouching with his arms folded over his chest to leaning forward with his arms across his knees. He's clearly eager to see if I'll tell her symptoms I've been keeping from him.

"Uh, pretty good," I reply as I tap the back of my heels on the examining table. "I'm mainly tired. I've been a little achy and had some shortness of breath, but I've been feeling better overall. The annoying stuff like headaches and dizziness has let up."

She smiles again. "Yeah, a lot of women feel better after the first trimester is out of the way. Is the nausea gone?"

I nod and rub my hands together. This room is freezing. "Yeah. I haven't been nauseous in a while."

The practitioner rolls herself closer to me and the table. "Have you felt any movement yet?"

I chew on the inside of my cheek a bit. "No. Not yet. Is that normal?"

"Sure. Each pregnancy has its own pace. Some babies start moving sooner than others, but trust me, at this point, there is wiggling going on in there. You just can't feel it, but you will."

I kind of wish our baby were a bit more active. I'd love to feel a wiggle or a kick, but I am not surprised that the baby has chosen a more docile, ambiguous stance. It wouldn't be Cloud's baby if it weren't being unpredictable.

"Any contractions?" she continues, slowly going down her list of inquiries.

I shake my head.

"Bleeding?"

"No."

"Good." She casts her attention back to Cloud. "How has she been emotionally?"

Cloud is shocked she's addressed him directly, so it takes him a moment to muster up a response. "A little more sensitive than normal. Otherwise, I don't see much of a difference."

Her friendly eyes find mine as they curl up at the edges. "Would you agree?"

I laugh a little. "Yeah. That's pretty accurate."

She proceeds to take my arm and starts checking my blood pressure. After that, she measures my stomach and feels my abdomen in its entirety. She presses at my belly in every way possible (and a few I didn't think were possible) until I squirm.

"You're a bit thinner than I would like," she says as she moves from my stomach and starts squeezing my hands and feet, probably checking for swelling. "But other than that, everything else looks good."

"I have a bit of a weird question…" I shift on the exam table.

"It probably isn't as weird as you think," she insists as she lets go of my hands and plays with the blood pressure cup in her lap. "What cha got?"

I glance at Cloud and take in a deep breath. "Are…hallucinations something you can experience during pregnancy…?"

I'm not looking at him, but I know that I've captured Cloud's full attention. I feel his piercing gaze on me. I also sense his feeling of betrayal. He's wondering why I kept this from him. He mind is going wild with questions. He's upset with me, I know. That's why I can't look at him.

"I've had many patients, especially in recent years, experience psychosis and take on other kinds of mental disorders. Some cases are more extreme than others. What have you been experiencing?"

"Nightmares mostly, but sometimes when I wake up, it's hard for me to tell what's real and what isn't… And I sometimes think I might be hearing voices…"

Cloud perks further. He knows about my night terrors, but I've kept the other details about the voices to myself.

"It isn't as common, but some women do experience these kinds of things. I'd caution you to know you're limits though. If you feel unstable, suicidal, or unable to function…"

I shake my head. "No. It's not like that. It's only happened a handful of times…but…"

"Right." She gives a nod. "It can be unsettling."

The silence that consumes the room is deafening. The practitioner keeps things moving though, so I don't have to worry about it long.

"At this point, you have the option of getting some tests done. We can do a few tests for disorders and defects." She pauses. "You didn't contract Geostigma, but inactive cells from the father can sometimes mean active Jenova cells for the baby. You have also had extensive exposure to Materia, so I feel I should tell you that you're at a slightly higher risk."

I frown and look at Cloud. "I…don't think we're interested."

Cloud silently nods his agreement.

"Okay." She makes a quick note on her notepad. "But if you change your mind, we can still run them for you.

We've been getting more and more issues, defects, and disorders since the Geostigma outbreak. There is the matter of active and inactive Jenova cells in patients and then their children. The medical world is still pretty split on the theory. The complications that have occurred over the last few years could just be a coincidence, but I will say that pregnancy seems to have gotten a lot more complicated for everyone since the outbreak. And I don't say this to try to scare you into anything." She holds her hands up innocently. "I just feel like my patients have the right to know. _"_

"Right." I smile and attempt to give her some assurance because I do understand her position.

"But in the meantime," she claps her hands together, "how about we move on and check some anatomy and see if we can hear the baby's heartbeat? Go ahead and lie back."

I heard the heartbeat at my last visit, but Cloud wasn't here with me. He'd been unable to shake work. So I have to admit, I am pretty excited for him to experience this. I hope it will make the pregnancy seem more real to him and take his mind off the complications and other issues that seem to be a recurring theme in our lives.

Technically, Cloud is here with me this time, but as I watch him, I see that he isn't really with me. He is somewhere in his own head where I can't reach him as I lie back, lifting my shirt over my ever-growing stomach.

Once I am settled, the weird jelly is put onto my stomach and Cloud puts his hand on top of mine. His eyes are distant yet focused on the wall across the way as I squeeze his hand.

The practitioner preps the ultrasound equipment and presses the cold instrument to the lower half of my stomach. The jelly is strangely warm as she watches the blip on the nearby monitor and begins moving around, looking at basic anatomy and searching the heartbeat. You can hear a pin drop as we all wait.

I watch the monitor. I see the baby's profile on the screen. I mainly see the head and the little hand with all five of its precious fingers. I can't see any feet or legs though. The baby is positioned oddly.

It seems to take my practitioner a lot longer to find the heartbeat this time. Her brow furrows as she continues to shift around and probe my lower abdomen.

I feel my own heartbeat start to race, but I try not to let me nerves get the better of me. I resolve not to worry or think the worst. I am going to stay positive. That's who I am. I am the one who keeps everyone optimistic. I am the emotional crutch for all those around me. I sometimes have to remember to do the same for myself.

My fingers weave between Cloud's, and he complies, holding me firmly yet gently.

Eventually, a rapid heartbeat begins hammering away on the machine, fluttering like a little bird on the static-covered screen. It's fast and strong yet abnormal. It almost sounds like a really squishy 8 Eye wiggling around.

Cloud's eyes are wide as they watch the monitor. His hand tightens around mine and our eyes meet. We have no words, but we don't really need them. I know all I need to know by the look in his eyes. He seems awestruck – awestruck in a way that I have never seen before. I've never seen this expression on his face before. It is a strange mix of surprise, joy, amazement, and distress, but it is beautiful.

I smile at him, and he smiles back – a  _full_ smile that reaches all the way to his glowing eyes.

* * *

When we get home, the first thing I want is a bath. For some reason, these appointments always make me feel tired and dirty. Plus, I know that once the kids get back from school, I won't have much time for self-care, so I want to take advantage of the lull while I can. I also kind of want to avoid the inevitable confrontation with Cloud about the... _voices._

I go to our room and start filling the bathtub with water, getting the water as warm as I can possibly stand it.

The water is scalding hot when I dip my toes in, but it feels good. I sink down into it until the water covers my head and fills my ears. There is no sound. There is only the steady hum of water ringing in my ears.

Resurfacing, I pull my hair out of my face and lean back until the edge of the tub holds me upright.

I sit like that I while, lazily running a washcloth over my limbs and randomly talking to my stomach since I read the baby can officially hear by voice now.

There is a gentle knock on the door. I start not to answer. I'm not sure if I am ready to have this little…chat.

Another gentle knock follows.

" _Can I come in?"_  he asks. He asks even though he doesn't have to.

"Sure," I call. I'd been expecting this. Despite how the appointment went well, I know he still has a bone to pick with me.

The door opens and a rather sheepish Cloud comes into the bathroom. His eyes are low as he crosses the space. Forever the unconventional gentleman, he doesn't give me the slightest glance.

He plops onto the fuzzy rug on the floor, resting his back against the tub's siding.

We say nothing to each other. He just sits there wringing his hands together over his raised knees while I keep running my washcloth over the same patches of skin.

"I'm turning around," he warns, giving me ample time to move or cover myself if I choose to. I don't. I just stay buried in the water, my stomach attempting to surface a bit though. It looks like a very small island.

Cloud rests one arm along the edge of the tub as his eyes search for mine. "We need to talk about what you said to the doctor."

He doesn't elaborate. He doesn't have to.

I frown. "It's not that serious, really."

I mean…it wasn't  _great._  It only happened once. I was just in the kitchen minding my own business. My ears had started ringing. My head was splitting down the middle with a pain like that of a lightening bolt. In that fleeting moment of pain, I thought I heard a faint voice in my head…

"You didn't tell me about the voices." Cloud's tone isn't necessarily accusatory, but it isn't that understanding either.

"I didn't want you to worry…and the doctor said it was nothing…." I shrug, water sloshing around me as I do so.

"Do  _you_  think it's nothing?" He eyes me carefully as if studying me, looking for lies or any hint of hesitation or dishonesty. His eyes are hard. Unflinching. "Given our history, wouldn't you think that this _might_  be something you would need to discuss with me?"

I chew on my lip. Cloud rarely takes on this kind of tone with me. However, when he does, it is highly effective. I feel guilty and sinful.

I shake my head. "I honestly don't know what it was."

His fair eyebrows merge together. "What did you hear?"

My frown deepens. "I…I thought – I thought it was Jenova…"

Cloud just stares at me, waiting patiently for me to continue.

My eyes go distant as I stare down at the water surrounding me. "Like…she thinks she has some claim on the baby…like as some extension of Sephiroth…"

"She didn't want me," Cloud says matter-of-factly, the tips of his fingers dipping into the water, almost grazing the outside of my thigh.

"What?" I ask softly.

"She only spoke to me once, and it was only to call me a puppet… She didn't see me like she saw Sephiroth, so I doubt she'd want any offspring of mine."

He has a point. Jenova didn't have any interest in the other Sephiroth clones. They – including Cloud – were just a means to an end to them. Kadaj and the others did call Cloud  _brother_  though… So they have to see some kind of connection, right?

"She might if she thought it could bring her or Sephiroth back," I challenge flatly as I watch some drops of water roll off the curve of my stomach.

Cloud squeezes my hand. "I think it's just your subconscious fears manifesting. I doubt you're really hearing her."

Like everything else revolving around this pregnancy, we have no way of knowing anything for sure. Its whole existence is a mystery. Regardless, I stand by what I've said from the beginning. None of that stuff really matters. I just want this baby to be happy and healthy.

As if reading my thoughts, Cloud reaches out runs his hand along my stomach. He's gotten a lot bolder when it comes to feeling the baby. He still doesn't like doing so often. However, he will have moments of boldness. I think seeing the baby and hearing it on the monitor today has added another level of comfort for him. I think he sees it more as our baby instead of this foreign otherworldly thing happening inside me.

"Out." Cloud unplugs the drain. "You're going to turn into a prune."

Once some of the water has gone down, Cloud lifts me out of the tub and holds me.

I don't ask why. I just accept it. Cloud doesn't ask much of me, but I have learned to understand his silent cries for help. This is one of them. He will randomly hug or hold me if he is feeling uneasy or needs some assurance.

I think – like Cloud – I love the blissful oblivion that comes from our physical contact. Once we touch, all the madness around us goes quiet and the storm calms. It is as if we are able to slip into the lives of someone normal who doesn't have our burdens, and it has been this way since that night we spent together under the Highwind.

He starts to pull away, but I press my lips my lips to his before he gets too far. Pushing myself onto my tiptoes, I grip his shirt collar before my fingers go to the back of his neck and curl into his hair.

I'm getting his clothes wet, pressing myself to him like this, but I can't bring myself to care.

The kiss was innocent enough at first. It was my way of trying to apologize to him for not being as transparent as I should have been. It was rather chaste, but soon I'm blushing and hypersensitive, feeling the soft cloth of his clothes shifting against some of the most responsive parts of me with every powerful breath he takes into his firm, muscle-filled body. His unique smell surrounds me, digging deep into my lungs as if I've taken a drag of some powerful herb. His lips are so warm and soft, and I feel my self-restraint plunging into the abyss rapidly. Soon I'm parting my lips and trying to get more of the distinct taste of him into my mouth and on my tongue.

I want him. I  _really_  want him. I'm desperate for a very specific kind of attention.

His hands are at my waist, up my back, gliding along my damp skin. Soon, I'm shivering and covered in goose bumps.

I'm flush against him as I moan softly against his mouth. The sound is almost that of a whimper because I can't get close enough. I start fumbling with all his zippers and buttons in search of any bare skin I can find.

"Please…" I whisper against his lips, knowing that little word is a big weakness of his, and ever since my sex drive returned, I've been using it against him more and more.

"No more keeping things from me?" He breathes, his hands running up my sides then trickling along the back of my arms.

I shudder and shake my head, unable to speak.

"Promise?" One of his hands slips down, gliding along the inside of my thigh…

My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. I am too busy melting under his astute touch. My knees are ready to buckle already.

His other hand goes to my chin, angling my face up so he can look directly into my eyes. They are glowing bright with adrenaline, filled to the brim with a lust I've come to know very well. His thumb runs along my parted lips admirably, but I also know he is trying to coax that word he wants to hear out of me.

After a few moments, I grow so desperate a manage to moan: "… I…promise…"

Finally, I get my way and he lifts me. I wrap my legs around him, continuing to kiss him from his lips down his neck to his powerful collarbone. Groaning, he backs out of the bathroom and carries me back to the bedroom.

* * *

_It's screaming, and it won't stop. I cradle it in my arms and shush it, but it is like it hates me. It's small hands push at me as it squirms at the mere sensation of me._

_The screaming intensities, reaching a shrill pitch that almost causes my vision to blur._

_I pull it from its blankets, thinking maybe he is hot and that's when I see it. His hair is sleek silver, and when it's eyes open they are otherworldly, slanted, and green…_

" **Give…my…baby, filthy…human!"**

" _No… He's mine…" I shake my head as if I can shake the voice out of my brain._

" _Are you sure?"_

_I turn to see Cloud staring down at me, but something is wrong with him. There is something wrong with his eyes. They look like they did just before he handed over the Black Materia to—_

" _How can you say that?" I hold the still-screaming child protectively to my chest. "Of course he is! He's **ours**!"_

_Suddenly, Cloud is gone and Sephiroth stands in his place with a wicked grin on his face._

_I instinctively take a step back, rapidly thinking of all the ways I can and will defend myself and my baby._

" _I don't know about_ **ours,"** he muses, something mockingly seductive in his tone, _"but he is definitely_ **mine** _."_

* * *

" _Tifa…! Tifa!"_

I wake up to glowing Mako eyes, and I instinctively push them away and back away.

"Let go of me!" I cry, and I haul my fist back, preparing to strike.

After thrashing around a moment, I realize that the eyes gazing at me are much too gentle and brimming with pain.

_I know that sadness…_

Cloud is staring at me, and he is riddled with agony. This is the most pain I have seen him in in a  _long_  time… Slowly, I realize that I caused it.

I didn't hit him, but he looks as if I just sent a sucker punch to his jaw.

"You're afraid of me…" His eyes seem duller now, the golden rays of afternoon sunlight making his irises and even his bare chest take on an almost flaxen hue.

My eyes swell with tears because for a moment, I had been afraid of him. Never, not once had I seen him as a clone of Sephiroth. Cloud was just… _Cloud_. It wasn't until I held his genes inside me that my subconscious questioned what he  _really_  was.

Still breathing hard and feeling strangely vulnerable, I wrap some of our covers around my naked frame and try to take in the reality around me.

The windows of our bedroom are tinted orange and yellow, those same shades of warmth spilling onto the wooden floors and our tangled bedding. The tawny, afternoon skies beyond them a brilliant veil of purple, gray, and orange. It is mid-afternoon, which means the kids will be home soon.

I look down and see my stomach protruding under the covers I wrapped around myself like a sarong.

_I'm still pregnant. I haven't had the baby. Sephiroth isn't here. He is dead. He is in the Lifestream…_

"What did you dream?" Cloud asks, his voice weak.

"You were…Sephiroth…" My eyes burn. My throat is tight.

Sephiroth had been so vivid, so  _real_  – real to the point that I could almost swear he is still in this room with us somewhere. I sensed things about him that I had completely forgotten – the sharp, angular shape of his eyes, the curt baritones of his voice… I sensed everything from the dead look in his eyes to the sly curve of his lips to the ethereal yet masculine smell of metal, menthol, and earth on him– all things I though only lived on in the deepest, darkest, corners of my memories, things better left forgotten, things I thought I  _had_ forgotten…

Cloud frowns. "…I see."

I start to cry. I crawl across the bed, leaving the bedding behind and hold him as if I could take all of it back.

"I'm sorry…" I whimper as I slip onto his lap and sob into his bare shoulder. "I'm so sorry…"

He says nothing. He just rubs my back and lets me cry.


	14. Cloud

There is an undeniable rift between Tifa and I lately. It isn't much. There have certainly been much worse deeper, more cavernous rifts between us, but this one is stranger than any of the others we have experienced in the past.

Tifa has been…different. I've never seen her like this before. I've seen Tifa in countless states over the years, but this one is new to me.

Marlene and Denzel have actually said that she isn't acting unlike how I acted around the time I contracted Geostigma. There is this odd aloofness to her. She gets quiet - unsettlingly quiet. I can't tell if she is thinking…or if she is hearing the voices she told me about.

All the nightmares, the sleepless nights, the hallucinations, and the voices have finally caught up to her. She wears these things like a heavy cloak with a long train. I know. I wear these things and more.

If she is hearing things, I have no way of knowing. I doubt Tifa would tell me and since I've been keeping my distance lately, there haven't been many opportunities for her to tell me.

The nightmares aren't her fault. I can't blame her or resent her for them, but I'd be lying if having her waking up and freaking out at the sight of me didn't hurt. It hurt a lot. That's why I've just…kept my distance to prevent any more hurt…for either of us…

Likely feeling the same desperation Tifa felt whenever I was going through my darkest moments, I decided it was time to start trying to plan this…babymoon…thing to help get Tifa out of her funk.

At first, Tifa was reluctant. She wanted to delay things, understandably so. I get that she doesn't have much time left before we have to shift her job duties around, which I am sure will be about as easy as pulling Behemoth teeth. Tifa wants to hold onto her duties as long as possible, but with some encouragement from Denzel, Yuffie, Marlene, and even Barret, she relents – albeit begrudgingly.

"I can think of at least one thousand other things we should be doing instead leaving for a babymoon," she says softly as she digs around in handbag she's packed for the trip. "We need to start looking at houses. We need to figure out what we'll do about where we live  _now._  We need to decide on if we want to know the baby's gender. We need to figure out a new schedule for the bar. Cloud, have you heard anything else from Rufus? And has anyone talked to Reeve?"

"Tifa!" Barret chides as he hauls her suitcase into the room. "Calm. Down. I'm gettin' worked up just listenin' to ya."

She sighs. "Sorry… I just keep thinking about all the things we need to do before the baby gets here…"

Tifa looks exhausted and pale. I see nothing of the glow that people always talk about being associated with pregnancy. She's also wearing clothes that practically swallow her whole, which somehow adds to how puny she seems. But this just affirms my decision to make this babymoon thing happen now. I know in my bones that she needs this.  _We_  need this.

As naïve and pathetic as it may be, I have this notion that it will help things.

"All that can wait until we get back." I gently pull the handbag from her grip and snap it closed. "We can even discuss some of it while we're gone too, if you want. There is no unwritten law that says we can't use this time to figure some of these things out."

Tifa frowns. "That sounds like something I'd normally be saying to you…"

"Right?!" Yuffie gawks as she sits down at a nearby table with a sandwich in her hands. "What's happening to the world!? Everyone panic! Cloud has become aware."

"Bout time," Barret grouses under his breath, but I pretend I didn't hear him. I do give Denzel a quick glare for snickering though as I pick up some of our bags and head towards the door.

"Have you decided where you're going yet?" Marlene follows me out to the shitty truck Dio gave us after Meteorfall to replace the buggy and to repay us for what we did for the Planet. Honestly, I'm shocked the damn thing still runs. I've said I'd buy us something else once it finally gave out, but it continues to live on to spite me.

"I think we are just going to wing it like we did on honeymoon." I toss some of our things into the back.

When we went on our honeymoon a few years ago, we just took off without any particular destination in mind. We didn't see any reason to confine ourselves to one place. We kind of just headed out and made decisions as we went. Ultimately, we ended up in Mideel, but we'd also stayed in Junon briefly. We even went to Nibelheim to visit our parents' graves before we came back home.

I don't think we will be quite as adventurous this time around though. We haven't taken as much time off, and I doubt Tifa will want to travel that much, especially since we won't be on Fenrir.

"I guess we'll see where the rust bucket takes us." I slam the door of the truck, causing said rust to groan in agony.

Marlene chuckles into her hands as Barret comes out with the last suitcase, Tifa, Yuffie, and Denzel following on his heels.

"Don't worry about any of that now, a'ight?" Barret says, leading me to believe that Tifa began talking about pending tasks again. "In fact, don't worry about nothin'. We have everything under control here, and we will all help once you get back too. Whatever ya need, we're here for ya." Barret easily tosses the bag into the truck and places a heavy hand on Tifa's shoulder. "Don't forget you have all of us for support."

Tifa smiles for the first time all day. "Thank you, Barret."

I owe him. I think he just gave Tifa the peace of mind she needed to leave and actually try to enjoy herself.

* * *

Things are still a bit strained during the first leg of the trip, kind of like we don't remember how to talk to each other. We haven't been doing much of that, but after a while, we begin to thaw out again.

Granted, we don't talk about the nightmares or anything heavy, but I'm not sure if we really need to. Bringing it up now might cause more harm than good. So instead, we discuss lighter things like our destination.

It doesn't take us long to reach an agreement. We don't want to go anywhere that will attract crowds. Tifa also doesn't want to go anywhere where bikinis and sheer clothing will be a prominent theme. Neither of us is really in the mood for the beach or any form of humidity either.

In the end, we decide to go to Icicle Inn. I don't think we've been there since we fled here as the Deepground conflict reached its peak. Needless to say, we'd both been a bit distracted at the time. So we'd never really had the chance to enjoy all the area has to offer, and Icicle Inn has really come a long way over the past few years.

We manage to arrive and get checked into our cabin right around sunset, which is nice. I'd been hoping we'd get wherever we were going before dark.

It's beautiful, really. The extra gil we spent on this place was totally worth it. You can see it in the fancy landscape portraits and snowshoes on the walls, the fuzzy rugs, the occasional stained glass window, and the rich wood that frames the windows and makes up the support beams in the concave ceilings.

The space is bigger than necessary, but it is so cozy and warm that it doesn't feel hollow like some bigger spaces do. The naked windows are tall and numerous, giving us a great view of the rich, winter landscape around us. You can see fragments of the Great Glacier and all the swirling shades of blue, purple, and green that erupt from it like some kind of arctic volcano. From the balcony in our bedroom, you can even see the snowy mountain ranges that sleep not too far away.

No snow is falling. The air and sky are crisp and clear, giving you an excellent view of the swirling scenery of icy blues for miles. You could probably see to the horizon if the mountains and caves weren't in the way.

It is so peaceful and still, instantly affirming that we made the right choice of location for our... _babymoon_.

I finish up with the luggage and head downstairs to make a fire in the living space for us. Seeing the Great Glacier was nice, but I can still distinctly remember what it felt like trying not to freeze out there. So even though it is warm inside already, I can't fight off the urge to make a fire.

Tifa comes to join me, hot chocolate for both of us in her hands.

"Thanks." I smile and take the steaming red mug from her.

Amazingly, Tifa's color and demeanor have changed dramatically. Getting her out of the bar and away from her main sources of stress has already done wonders for her.

Tifa can wear white like no one else I know. She looks absolutely stunning in her white sweater and dark jeans. Her legs are brought up to her chest as she sips at her drink on the couch and stares at the fire in the oversized, stone fireplace.

"You look beautiful." It just came out. I made no conscious decision to say that to her. My thoughts were just so loud…

Her eyes widen, sparkling a bit as she blushes to her neck and grins. Her head dips a bit, making all of her long, dark hair briefly curtain around her. Her reaction is one of the most genuine, endearing things I've ever seen. It also makes me aware that I don't say things like this to her enough.

Still smiling, her eyes flicker up to find mine. "Thank you."

I sit down next to her and we enjoy our drinks around the fire for a while, chatting about nothing in particular. It isn't long though before Tifa is in my lap.

Straddling my hips, she kisses me. Her mouth is on mine, leaving it only to go down my neck and over my throat. My hands are in her sweater, gripping at soft, hidden skin.

She makes marvelous noises when she's turned on, and in spite of all our time together over the years, she is still so responsive to me, which is a significant ego booster that usually coaxes another, more provocative part of me to life.

The fabric of her jeans is tight in my hands as I hold her hips and subconsciously seek out more friction between us.

I always need more. Enough is never really enough.

Her kiss is deep. One of her hands grips desperately at my shirt collar while the other glides up the back of my skull and gently tugs at a large chunk of my hair.

I think I'm making noises now.

As stunning as she looks in this sweater, I want it gone. I slip it off over her head – our lips separating only for a moment – and toss it to the love seat next to us. Hungry, my mouth finds hers again. I hold her by the back of her legs and guide her to her back and carefully position myself on top of her.

The heat of the fireplace is hot against my back as she lifts her legs, pressing her thighs to my sides. My blood feels hotter than the fire though. I didn't realize how much the emotional distance between us had taken its toll until I touched her again. I've missed her more than I thought I did, and I think the feeling is mutual. Her hands are shaking.

I sit up to unbutton her jeans. As I do so, I think about carrying her upstairs so we can continue this there, but I honestly don't think either of us can wait that long.

* * *

Despite the cold pulsing outside the cabin, a surprising amount of sweat has gathered on my forehead. My chest is rising and falling rapidly as Tifa climbs off me and I try to catch my breath.

That alone was worth the trip out here. There is something to be said for having sex somewhere new. It brings something different out of you. Plus, given our current situation, we have been a bit more… _adventurous_ …in the bedroom. I'm not complaining though. At. All.

I manage to pull my eyes from the ceiling and glance around the living space. We left a fair amount of damage in our wake. Somehow, between the couch and ending up in the floor on a rug, we knocked over a lap, some unlit candles, and a vase. All the throw pillows are…everywhere.

Without provoking too much movement (I honestly can't muster much), I grab a nearby blanket (it too had been on the couch at one point…) and throw it over us so that we aren't  _completely_ exposed to the subtle chill in the room. It isn't much, but it is better than nothing considering we are just lying on a fur rug in front of the fireplace.

I stare at the hollow ceiling again as Tifa shifts and conforms to me, curling around my side. I lazily wrap an arm around her, running my fingers along her back and through the black hair splayed out around her.

Her ear goes over my heart, and I'm sure she can hear it violently pounding as a result of what she did to me. It's as if it wants to beat right out of my chest to meet her.

After a while – Holy knows how long – she sits up a bit, propping herself up on her elbow and looking down at me.

I raise an eyebrow at her. She's looking at me strangely.

"I was just trying to remember your old eye color," she finally says, her tone casual and very matter-of-fact.

My brow furrows. "What?"

She studies my eyes now as she traces the edges of my face with her fingertips. "It is kind of hard to remember, but I think they were a duller blue. There wasn't that small burst of green in them either."

I vaguely recall what my eyes used to be like. Like Tifa, the main thing I remember is that they aren't what they are now. Obviously. The experiments hadn't happened yet. So much of what came before Mako-poisoning is fuzzy, even the big stuff. You'd think you could remember the color of your eyes…but I can't really recall. Like Tifa, I just know they were different from what I have now.

It's appropriate though. I changed just like my eyes did. That change is a permanent reminder that there are pieces of me that have been lost and forever altered. They are the physical proof that some part of me died in that lab.

I cast my gaze back towards the ceiling. "I think…they were the same color as my mom's… Her eyes were blue, kind of like you said…I think…" I pinch the bridge of my nose. It is so hard to remember these things… The details taunt me yet elude me.

"I don't really care what our baby looks like," Tifa says and lowers her head to listen to my heartbeat again, "but I think it would be nice if they got your old eyes."

Something strange stirs in me, something that almost moves me to tears although I can't really explain why. "You know, I think I want that too…"

* * *

The snowmobile we've rented is no Fenrir. It serves its purpose though. It gets us from point A to point B, and I'll admit, we have had some fun on it.

With Tifa pregnant, we couldn't go too crazy. That didn't keep Tifa from taking the wheel (because I was driving like  _'a 500 year old adamantaimal'_ ) and doing donuts out in the open with me clinging to her for dear life on the back.

I think she shaved  _at least_  twenty years off my life each time she took over. She didn't do any jumps or intense slopes, but she's  _pregnant_. She was undeterred by this particular detail though. She was determined to get our gils worth.

We spend most of the late morning and early afternoon on the snowmobile before coming back to the cabin to warm up (in more ways than one). We eat, fool around, nap, and then fool around some more. I think we've successfully had sex in almost every room of that cabin.

That evening over the meal we'd prepared together, we decide we want to see the lights that reflect off the horizon near the Great Glacier.

It sounded entertaining enough at the time. It isn't something everyone gets to experience. When we were here chasing Sephiroth, we had been too busy and distracted to even  _consider_ staying up until the wee hours of the morning to observe one of nature's wonders. However, now that we are here, I'm sleepy and cold. Very. Very. Cold. Not Great Glacier cold, but still cold.

Tifa and I are in five layers of clothes and have made a hefty cocoon of blankets we purchased in the village. We have several thermoses of scaling soup and coffee in the cocoon with us. My Fusion Swords are also sitting next to us in case we have any more  _visitors_  (we did a pretty good job securing the area of the local monsters, but you never know).

We are snuggled against each other for warmth beneath a plethora of blankets and even though it is still cold, this is pretty nice. Being this close to Tifa is nice.

The colorful streaks began scattering across the sky sometime after 4:00 in the morning. The swirling bands of green, blue, and pink remind me of the Lifestream.

"How pretty…" Tifa breathes in awe, sounding just like she did the first time we saw the fireworks and the view over Gold Saucer.

"What is it with us and stars…?" I muse as we watch the sparkling skyline intently.

Tifa's back presses further into my chest. "Because, apparently, stars are our… _thing_."

I almost scoff. "I wasn't even sure we had one of those. I guess it's official now though."

As I shift and secure my hands around her waist from behind, I graze the top of her belly. I keep them there for a while. I see why Tifa has started resting her hands on the upper curve of her belly like this. There is something oddly soothing about it.

Her hands land on top of mine as she cradles her stomach. "Do you want to know the gender? We can find out soon, you know."

"Do  _you_ want to know?" I throw back.

"…Sometimes."

It grows quiet aside from the faint cry of wolves in the distance closer to the woods beyond us.

"The kids want to know," I add when I realize she isn't going to say anything else.

Tifa chuckles, her stomach bouncing a bit under my hands. "Of course. Denzel wants a boy and Marlene wants a girl."

I don't ask what she wants. For us, it is a bit different. We just want him or her to be happy and healthy. That is honestly all we want. And of course, I want Tifa to be okay. I don't want any complications for her either.

"I think…" I feel Tifa shifting against me, and I don't have to see her to know she's looking down at her belly. "I think I want to wait. Is that okay? Are you okay with not knowing?"

I nod against her hair. She smells like the vanilla shampoo we used in the shower earlier. "Of course."

"Thank you," she hums as the back of her head meets my shoulder, her gaze going back up to the lights overhead that have stretched out further towards the east. It almost seems like a hand reaching out for something.

"Are you ready to head back?" I shift beside her so I can grab her gloved hands and rub them between mine, trying to create some friction.

"Can we stay a little longer?"

I lean forward to breathe on our hands. "Okay, but if we stay much longer, we are going to be frozen solid. Then we won't be able to leave."

* * *

Hands in her puffy coat's pockets, Tifa watches from the snowmobile with a strange combination of amusement and skepticism. There is a somewhat cocky smile on her face, like she has a secret no one else knows.

"Are you sure about this?" She is almost laughing now.

"Yeah," I reply instantly as I toss the snowboard onto the ground. "Why not?"

"Oh, I don't know," she muses sarcastically and shrugs a shoulder, "it's only been almost ten years since you did this last."

She has a point, but this is something I resolved to do once we decided on coming here. With us leaving early tomorrow morning, I am running out of time and chances. I just want to go down once, partly for fun and partly to see if I still have it in me.

"I'm not doing any jumps," I argue, placing my foot on the board and gliding it back and forth along the snow. "It came naturally before."

Tifa snickers playfully. "You were 23 before."

"It's the amateur trail," I grumble and bend down to secure the board's straps around my feet, remembering that the snowboard I used before didn't even have these. "It's nothing compared to what I've done before."

"I recall you busting your ass a few time before…" Tifa pulls her knit cap down over her ears before shoving her gloved hands back in her pockets, smiling quickly at the passersby.

"Don't act like you wouldn't be doing this if you weren't pregnant." I secure my goggles around my head.

"No. You're right. I'd totally be going down with you, but I'd still be acknowledging the fact that we aren't who we were six years ago."

"We're still in better shape than over half the people on the Planet."

Still smirking, she simply says: "True…"

"Alright. I'm going for it. I'll meet you at the bottom?"

Shaking her head, she cranks the snowmobile. "Be careful."

Once I see Tifa disappear down the trail we took to get up here, I shift the board around and launch myself forward.

It isn't as easy as I remember it being in my head. I am a little wobbly at first, but soon, muscle memory takes over as I'd hoped it would.

I start making it down with surprising ease, slowly picking up speed.

The slopes are pretty clear at first. Some slight changes in terrain, but nothing I can't handle. I even get confident and a little adventurous and attempt a few small jumps.

Within seconds, the hillside gets steeper, and I gain even more speed, almost too much. The terrain also changes from spacious fields of snow to tree-riddled banks.

The further down I go, the more trees there are. In fact, there are more than I'm comfortable with, and they seem to be closing in on me. The spaces between them become more and more narrow, and I am no longer seeing any other skiers or snowboarders around.

Realizing I may have made a navigational error, I start trying to navigate my way out of the pop-up forest and back to the designated path.

A clearing comes into view, but the edge of my board snags on one of the roots just as I see it. I jolt and jerk from the impact, but I manage not to fall. My balance is doomed though. I try desperately to recover, but I catch one root and then another. I'm wobbling and flailing my arms to no avail.

The final root I hit is the cruelest. It yanks the board right out from under me. One of my legs jerks out of the straps, but the other resists. So when my body goes forward from the inertia of it all, that leg stays behind in the roots with the board.

I wail in pain from the sheer force of it. My bodyweight causes the board to snap in half. A piece stays with the tree roots and the other goes flying with me. I tumble through the snow hitting two more trees as I go before finally wrapping around yet another one.

All the air I have whooshes from my lungs as I fold in half at my middle around this skinny tree. My leg takes yet another blow thanks to the bit of the snowboard still clinging to my foot that sticks into the frozen ground.

I unfold and collapse onto my back. I am hurting so much I can't even tell where I'm actually hurting. As I still, I realize most of the pain is concentrated around my ribs and my leg.

I manage to sit upright and see that damn hunk of splintered snowboard still wretched in the ground, pulling my leg back at the most macabre angle.

Black fireworks start going off behind my eyes, and the last thing I think before the sparks of black take over my vision is:

_I just broke my fucking leg._

* * *

Waking up, I expect to be cold. I expect to still be in that field of crooked, icy trees, but I am surprisingly warm - sore but still warm.

My vision is filled with white, but it is not the pure white of snow. This is an abnormal, manmade white. Looking around, I see IVs in my arm. I'm hooked up to machines like a damn switchboard.

Something inside me almost audibly snaps. Something old and rusty stirs in me, like a switch that hasn't been turned on in a very long time, but it has been flipped and is too damaged to turn off again. I have officially gone into some kind of panic mode.

I yank the IVs and tubes out of my arms with abandon, my blood spurting onto the creamy covers of the bed I'm on.

" _Cloud…!"_

The voice is familiar. I know that voice, but the panic in me doesn't care. I fling my legs over the edge of the bed, determined to make a break for it. I don't know where I'm going. I don't care. I just have to get out of here.

… _ **Away from the white coats…**_

… _ **Out of the green holding tube…**_

… _ **Off that splinter-filled operating table…**_

… _ **Away from the bright light…**_

… _ **Out of the leathery straps…**_

_**Get. It. Out.** _

" _Someone call security!"_

" _No! Wait! That'll make it worse."_

I'm limping. Only one of my legs works, but I'm bound and determined to _make_  it work. Still, I almost fall multiple times. I crash into the bed. I take out some kind of machine. Things are breaking and shattering. I might even push someone.

"… _Cloud…"_  comes the voice that I know again, and my body responds to the very sound of it.

For the first time since I woke up, I am able to focus on something outside of machines, fluids, IVs, tubes, and flashing buttons. I see beautiful brown eyes framed by thick lashes and long, black hair.

My breathing slows as a familiar touch flows along my face and that assuring voice speaks softly to me.

" _It's okay, Cloud. This isn't a lab. You're at a hospital near Icicle Inn. You got a concussion, some broken ribs, and a broken leg snowboarding. That's all."_

"Tifa…" I murmur.

She smiles warmly and affectionately at me. "That's right."

Slowly, my wits begin to return to me. I no longer see the lab in the basement of Shinra Manor. I don't hear Hojo or the other scientists murmuring to each other. I see Tifa.

She is holding me up. Looking around, I see that I've caused a scene. Countless people peer into the room from the hall. Nurses and security guards are in the room looking apprehensive and unsure as to how to act.

My heart sinks a bit as I recognize fear. These people are afraid of me…just like Tifa was that night she dreamt about Sephiroth…

The warmth of blood on my skin catches my attention. I look down to see it flowing freely down the length of my arm, dripping off my fingers and onto the floor. I've gotten it on Tifa's pretty, white sweater too.

Pain returns with a vengeance with my lucidity. I feel the concussion and the broken bones Tifa was talking about.

Feeling my muscles loosen, Tifa guides me back to the bed. I oblige. All resistance is gone.

Once I'm back on the bed, Tifa sits on the edge next to me, holding my hand securely in hers.

"I'm sorry…" I grumble as nurses shuffle around to clean up the mess I made. "…I-I…"

Tifa touches my cheek. "You're fine. You have nothing to feel sorry for. It was a kneejerk reaction. I warned them it might happen."

"Are you okay?" My eyes flow from her face, to her stomach, and back to her face.

She laughs at me. "You're in a hospital bed with broken bones and a mild concussion and  _you're_  asking  _me_ if  _I'm_  okay? You never cease to amaze me, Cloud Strife."

Tifa helps me get repositioned on the bed. The nurses come to look me over, apprehensively. I try my best to be cooperative in a vain attempt to compensate for the scene I just caused. I firmly refuse another IV though.

"How long do I get to keep this?" I pat the cast that covers my right leg.

"The doctor estimated six weeks," Tifa replies lowly. "They weren't able to use any form of Materia or potions before the break solidified. I still doubt you'll need it for that long though. Your ' _SOLDIER_ ' background will probably cut you a break like it usually does."

I sigh heavily and pinch the bridge of my nose.

Yes. The experiments will allow me to heal faster, but this is still a disaster. The horror of this begins to sink in. I realize what a complete and utter mess this is, and I hate myself for it.

This impacts everything: how we will rearrange the shifts for the bar, how I'll do my routes, and how we'll look for a new house!

I have just become another burden, another obstacle, another stress, another inconvenience that we do not need.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._


End file.
